


Lost Legacy

by Andrithir



Category: Halo, Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 04:59:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andrithir/pseuds/Andrithir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Precursors had defied the Reapers. In their infinite wisdom, the Precursors had surpassed the ancient machines. With their purpose under threat, The Reapers receded, gone into the darkness that lay between galaxies. But there was one thing the flawed machines could never understand, something beyond their comprehension. They could only see in black and white, right and wrong, they were incapable of seeing an alternative, a third path.</p><p>So devoted to their beliefs that life would be crushed under machines, the Reapers sought to preserve through stagnation and destruction. Never could the Reapers imagine, never could they understand that the created did not need to be machine to surpass its creator.</p><p>Even after the fall of the Precursors, and galactic extinction at the hands of the Forerunners, the Reapers still failed to understand. Arrogance was not limited to biological life, but to sentient existence.</p><p>Within Gaia's flesh, an ancient and harrowing legacy will be revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fall of Earth

**A/N: Hello everyone,**

**Andrithir here, some of you may know this story from FanFic. Don't worry, it's me. If you want confirmation, feel free to PM me on my FF account - no one has stolen my story... as far as I'm aware anyway.**

**So, I will be posting the rewrites before posting up the rest of the story, otherwise it will be just plain confusing.**

**Regards,**

 

**Andrithir**

* * *

" _Fleet Admiral Lord Terrence Hood – Personal Journal_

_March 7, 2553_

_The war is over, it's finally over. Words cannot convey how relieved I am that it has finally passed. But it has come at such a high cost. Billions of humans dead and hundreds of our colonies burning, and amongst them are some of our greatest heroes._

_Master Chief Petty Officer John-117 is missing in action, presumed dead alongside with the AI Cortana. Posthumously, we've promoted him to the rank of Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy. Under the circumstances, it's the best that we can do._

_Now we must rebuild what we have left, restart commerce and pray that we won't have to face another crisis of the magnitude. Too many friendly faces have been lost, never will I see them again._

_We've lost so much, but scars like these will never fade. They will heal, close over and become a part of who we are, but they will never be forgotten. The war is finally over._

_September 18, 2553_

_The Sangheili are fighting the remanent of the Covenant. We are doing our best to supply them and keep them in the fight, but without vital information on their ships, we are at a lost on how to repair them. I can only hope that if this is a war of attrition, the Elites will prevail._

_Alongside the Separatists, we have formed a Coalition in order to meet future threats together._

_Our expeditionary forces have located more and more Forerunner Archives filled with information. Our scientists and scholars are doing whatever they can to piece together this enigmatic and powerful race. I've been told by some of our leading scientists that from what it seem the Forerunners had left behind their creations for us._

_There is much locked away in the sea of information, and it will be only a matter of time before we learn them all. Additional funding has been allocated towards overhauling our military. Scientists are looking into ways of producing smaller, cheaper and more efficient direct-energy weapons._

_January 5, 2554_

_The fight against the Insurrectionists has restarted. ONISAD Teams are fighting bushfire wars against the rebel cells. Reports have also confirmed that the Insurrectionists have enlisted the help of Secessionists. We don't have the resources to fight them all at the same time, and they know it._

_ONI officials have told me that Operations are expanding towards former colonies. I can only imagine the hell our people are going through. I know for a fact that decimated terrain is unforgiving and horrible to fight in._

_For the sake of the people, we've done our best to keep it all off radar. Everyone's been scared enough. The chaps in ONISAD know what they signed up for; I just wish that what they're going through is not more than what they can handle._

_I'm starting to see too many Intelligence Officers visiting the psych clinics._

_March 18, 2555_

_I'll just say it, something is rotten in ONI. Admiral Margaret Orlenda Parangosky has recently passed away… that's something I cannot accept. She's not that much older than me. I may not like the woman, but they said she died in her sleep, on the night she had a meeting with ONI Admins._

_The UNSC still has a hold on emergency powers, thus we still are in control of_ everything _. But that's giving the Insurrectionists more clout, and I'm also not liking what ONI is undergoing right now. The Head of the Intelligence Organisation is now Admiral Serin Osman (whom I gather is a washed out Spartan-II candidate)._

_Everything Dr Halsey has done for us has now been twisted by the media. These are unconfirmed rumours, but they've gained enough momentum for it to be a threat to the stability of humanity. Maybe I've been out of the loop or out of touch with a lot of things, but these rumours have been circulating for quite some time now._

_I fear ONI is trying to initiate a takeover by starting the rumours. Under Directive 251RCC, I am relinquishing emergency powers and turning ONI into a mixed military and civilian organisation._

_I wish Lieutenant Colonel Doctor Essingdon Keyes was promoted to Head of ONI. The boy has far more skill and talent than any other Deputy Chiefs._

_October 14, 2555_

_I have received word from the Arbiter that the war against the Brutes is not going so well. They have taken heavy losses. I have told him that I will send aid as soon as possible. But the Arbiter has said not to rush, for three decades of warfare has driven Humanity to the brink of destruction._

_I wish the Elites all of the best._

_December 4, 2557_

_It's been a long tough year; I haven't had much time to write. But it's a mix of good news and bad. The UNSC_ Infinity _had been commissioned this year. She is an impressive ship and the pride of our Navy. Her official mission will be to explore uncharted areas and located Forerunner Artefacts, her unofficial mission is to find and neutralise all Elites that pose a threat to the Arbiter, whilst finding and aiding in the decommissioning of the Halo Rings._

_Despite a few unforeseen incidents, the ship has performed admirably. And on top of that, they have recovered MCPON John-117._

_That was the good news of the year. And now the bad._

_We are at war with a Forerunner splinter group… as if we didn't have enough on our hands already. And to make matters worse, Doctor Catherine Halsey has defected to the Covenant Remnant. Hell, I didn't even know she was alive until Captain Lasky had briefed me. (I prefer Lasky over Del Rio; the man knows how to lead and respects the Spartans)._

_I went to Keyes to talk about his mother, and I had wondered if he knew she was still alive. When I saw him, he was livid. His work colleagues had told me that he was practically screaming for Palmer's head on a pike. But as quickly as his temper flared, it all disappeared under a mask._

_He's planning something. Just as brilliant as his mother and a master tactician like his father. The boy is working himself to death._

_January 22, 2560_

_We have more Forerunner Archives located deep within shield worlds and Micro Dyson Spheres, in them, we have learnt more efficient ways of slipspace travel, the science behind Beam Weapons, Forerunner Dreadnoughts, Forerunner power cells, Forerunner History and so much more. We have just made the greatest technological leap in all of mankind._

_I have read through some of the Archives, I can't believe the history that is filled in these Archives. Apparently, prehistoric humanity was space faring, and equivalent in power to the Forerunners, unbelievable. It also saddens me to discover that humanity was devolved after their defeat in the Human-Forerunner War._

_It is also revealed within the Archives that there are more alien species out there than expected. What came to my attention are unisex species such as the Asari, and another, the Prothean, it stated that they are extremely intelligent and capable of transferring complex concepts through mere touch; it is quite possible that they are the ones who rose to power after the disappearance of the Forerunners._

_According to the Archives, the Protheans are or were a noble, mantle like race, just like the Forerunners. However I couldn't speculate much since the Archives had ceased to update since reseeding the galaxy was completed. But now, since our "return" to the Archives, did it start to collect more information._

_A sidenote is that we've discovered something that the Archive's refer to as Dark Energy Manipulation. Basically, it is live hosts controlling dark energy through movements of their bodies. I don't know what this means for our military. Our scientists haven't done much research into this specific field, and we're not too sure where to begin. The archive's fails to mention anything more._

_Our scientists have already begun research into combining hardlight and ion weaponry for mass production. With the aid of the additional information cache, estimates have placed total military overhaul at five years._

_December 25, 2562_

_This is something our scientists have been working on for a very long time, but with the aid of LTCOL Doctor Essingdon Keyes we have finally done it. With the use of bio-nanites and positronic brain lattice implants, we are now able to increase the physical capabilities of the average human and annul all elements that cause ageing. In short… we have achieved eternal youth._

_However, this is something that cannot be passed down from parent to offspring. Recommended age to undertake these implants is 35 and above._

_We've also begun further research into improving powered exoskeletons for our regular infantryman as well as beginning the development of cheap-reusable energy shield generators. On another note, combat research has concluded that due to constraints, MGs, cannons and assault rifles should be upgraded to DEW tech. Pistols, SMGs and sniper rifles will be restricted to regular projectiles for concealment purposes._

_January 1, 2565_

_Under Directive-2239DF, the UNSC High Command and the UEG Council has approved the mass recruitment/training of Spartan-IVs. The SPARTAN Branch will still remain as is because of its expeditionary nature. I can hope that this curbs some of the bravado that other branches find off-putting._

_Units affected by this directive are the 1_ _st_ _Airborne Division, selected members of the 105_ _th_ _Dropjet Division, ONISAD Special Operations Group_

_March 5, 2567_

_Sangheilos has fallen. There's no easier way to put it. Out of nowhere, the Covenant has resurfaced with a new addition to their ranks, the Yahg. They are equally aggressive and large as the Brute. We cannot stand and fight them. We'll have to run. Plans have already been made to relocate to the Halo Rings and the rebuilt Arks. Yes, plural. The irony of it all has been lost on many of us, but not me. I guess that says a lot about me._

_I wonder what my wife would think, I wish she was still with me. Wherever she is, I hope she doesn't have to see this._

_The Coalition-Covenant War has begun._

_February 7, 2568_

_Earth is on the brink of destruction; our combined navies are down to 35% combat effective. 8% reduction from last year. The surprise attack had wiped out most of our non-developed navy._

_The UEG and I believe that we should enact a Hammer-Down protocol, and I agree with them fully._

_Nuclear weapons have been detonated all over Earth in order to halt the Brute-Yahg advance. Desperate times call for desperate measures._

_I have also enacted emergency protocols. Due to the extreme losses we are undertaking, all Special Force E-7 ranks and higher will be promoted to CO of accordance._

_Elites and ONISAD have also managed to pinpoint Yahg and Brute colonies. I have ordered Nova Warhead Missiles to be fired at them, this could be considered a War crime, but this is humanity's darkest hour. Slipspace capabilities further increase the devastating effects these weapons have. I can only imagine so many colonies going up in flames._

_But it's something that must be done if we're to survive._

_Hammer-Down Protocols have been enacted; it is our last resort for contingency plans. Despite having pinpointed our enemy's homeworlds, we cannot guarantee that our weapons will wipe them all out."_ _**-Extracts from the** _ _**Personal Journal of (UNSC Navy) Fleet Admiral Lord Terrence Hood** _

* * *

**EARTH, SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA**

This war, it had gone on for too long. _Too damn long_. He had _hoped_ that he had done his part and that peace was achieved. But they were wrong, they were all wrong. Just when everything simmered down, there would always be something to disrupt the calm. Humanity's increasingly delicate and fragile order of conflicting interests never allowed a peaceful decade to go by. Simply expanding into the stars didn't change the cycle of human life. It just made it more insanely elaborate.

Sure the introduction of cold-fusion had alleviated a large number of problems, but in their stead worse ones took their place. To simply believe an extremely-varied specie to live peacefully in their space-faring stage was just too much to hope for. True individualism and false individualism all conflicted with one another. And when humanity's test came, it was almost too much to bear.

Though debatable whether man's own self-conflicted nature aided him against the fight against the Covenant, there was no denying that it was more than just a thorn in the side.

The Theocracy of a Conglomerate of Aliens was no different either. They mirrored humanity that it was uncanny. They possessed man's brutal nature, his brilliant mind, his ambitious greed and his heart.

When man fought the Covenant, he was fighting against himself, his own ideology that once existed so many centuries ago.

These were the thoughts of Commander John-117 as he reflected on how far humanity had come, just to end up like this all over again. The Covenant was back and in greater numbers too. Hundreds if not thousands of planets were irreversibly damaged just to breed the Loyalist species back to overwhelming numbers.

The Coalition had been caught off guard, and in just a matter of a few weeks, so many colonies were overran by the horde.

Earth, Earth was all that was left. Reach had fallen, but instead of being burned to ash and glass, her lands were trampled and flattened.

> "John?" Kelly placed a gauntleted hand on his shoulder, "it's time to go."

He looked up into her warm brown eyes; thoughts interrupted, and gave a nod. She turned to slide on her helmet, the air seals hissing shut. John used the rung to his left and pulled himself up from the crate he was sitting on, and eased his helmet over his head.

John walked to the door and pushed it open gently, the soil beneath his boots gave way as he walked across the uncovered floor of the bunker. The dark damp cave carve-out served as an outpost for the wounded to be dropped off at. He felt that there was a certain irony being dragged into the ground and waiting for an unknown fate.

Anybody who could still hold a gun and aim were still on the frontlines. The ones that lay in the dirt or on stretchers were torn up beyond recognitions. Most of the blunt trauma and bleeding injuries were caused by berserking Brutes who loved to get in close to use their blades and fangs.

> "Linda and Fred are outside," Kelly said.

John checked his HUD. He had incoming orders and flicked his status to accept them.

> "C-Two wants us to support the defence on Mount Sam Enterprises Tower," the Chief said, "we'll be able to cover the evacuation from there."

Despite being a Commander, the term "Chief" had stuck. Personally, John didn't mind. He knew the importance of morale and did whatever he could to boost it – within reason of course.

He moved outside of the bunker and took cover behind a large boulder. All the trees on this hillside had been stripped bare, only ash and charcoal remained. Down in the harbour below, was the cacophony of war. Multi-role attack fighters screamed overhead and readjusted their attack vectors for a gun run.

> "Objective is four klicks north of our position," John said, updating the team's battlenet. "We evict the Covies, and evac will have less to worry about."
> 
> "Let's do this."

Blue Team began their approach by leap-frogging downhill. Bits of glass and burnt branches were crushed beneath the heels of their boots as they dashed from cover to cover. Even with the full support of all available assets, the occasional Banshee sortie managed to break through and wreak hell before it was shot down.

Turning his gaze skyward, the Spartan could see the Banshees inbound on an attack run, and the huge backdrop of _Campton_ hovering over the Sydney Harbour. The ship's point-defence guns were blazing, lighting up the moonless night sky as the crew worked overtime to provide desperately needed fire support.

> "Incoming Banshee! Target two hundred metres north west, high!" Fred gestured.
> 
> "I got it!" Linda breathed coolly.

She gently pivoted her rifle and spun the barrel to bear. At the squeeze of the trigger, she let fly the feared Raufoss round. The bullet drilled into the hull, detonated in a fiery ball of zinchromium thermite expelled the tungsten dart into the pilot. The Banshee careened to the left, smoke coughing out of the ragged hole torn into its side.

"We're clear."

> " _Chief,"_ it was Cortana over the COM, the AI was deployed on the UNSC _Campton_ , an Infinity Class Cruiser. _"You've got multiple hostiles converging towards Outpost Echo-Two. Hunter-Two-Four has been rerouted to secondary. Command needs you to pick up the ball on this."_
> 
> "Copy," John replied, "egressing to secondary."

Blue team made their way down the hillside, and encroached upon the hillside mansions that overlooked the Darling Harbour. What was once as renounced as a place of symphonic art, commerce and life, was now a cacophony of war and death.

Stray rounds streaked through the air, leaving a colourful trail in their wake. Cannons echoed in the distance, their rounds drilling through the tower buildings, and aircrafts soared through skies filled with savage energy. Despite being physically frailer than most of the Covenant species, humanity had always dominated ground warfare.

The conglomerate theology had become lethargic and complacent, relying heavily on orbital support for long-range work. Covenant ground-forces always loved a close-quarter fight. But here, on Earth, they'd have to _walk_ to get there. UNSC combat doctrine had a preference to long-range engagements. The Covenant may have the punch, but the UNSC had the reach. With the help of the Sangheili Navy, the UNSC Naval Assets could hold their own in space.

> "I've got hostiles on sensor," Kelly said.
> 
> "Move to engage," John ordered.

Blue team activated their optical camo, disappearing from sight and sensors. A Covenant Lance was advancing down a boulevard overlooking a small harbour filled with gutted yahts. Blue team moved into an L-shaped ambushing position and waited until all targets were within visual sight.

> "Weapons free," John whispered over TEAMCOM.

Covenant soldiers fell without warning, and without a sound. Nothing was more detrimental to morale than watching a comrade fall silently, with only smouldering wounds and smoke curling up from melted armour. Grunts cried in fear and spun on their axis. Jackals squawked and looked around with their keen eyes to spot their assailants. But there was no use.

More Covenant soldiers crumbled like stringless puppets. They didn't make a sound as their bodies hit the boulevard.

John zeroed in on the Yahg leader; he trained his sights onto the massive alien's ugly tri-shaped mouth. The alien was roaring orders to his subordinates, telling them to fan out and fire aimlessly. Ghostly green blobs and purple crystalline shards flew through the night and splashed harmlessly onto the towering walls of the Sydney streets. But none failed to hit the Spartan team.

Squeezing the trigger, the Yahg stopped moving. His eyes rolled back and listlessly fell into a heap. He didn't topple in a certain direction, and by the time he fell, the impact marks didn't give a clue to where the shooter was. The Grunts began to panic, firing wildly into the air.

Satisfied that all the hard targets were dealt with, the Spartans turned their weapons on the lighter troops. In the span of a few seconds, scores of Jackals fell and the methane tanks on the Grunts exploded. Gore and bluish blood covered the streets accompanied with scorch marks.

"We're clear," Kelly said, checking her sensors.

John cycled through another clip and slid it home in his rifle. Laser weapons were definitely a thing of beauty in his opinion. Unlike the Spartan laser, the standard issue on the Fulton & Rasch FR Superior Combat Assault Rifle (SCAR) and DEW Sniper Rifles virtually made no sound and no light signature. They were literally undetectable with the laser setting.

Making another sweep with his sensors, the team was in the all clear and moved on.

> "Friendlies up ahead, John," Kelly said, gesturing to a platoon of UNSC Marines.

The Chief quickly jogged over towards them, disengaged cloak, and took cover behind a concrete cinder block.

> "What's the situation Lieutenant?"
> 
> "We've got an Airborne chalk pinned down just one hundred metres from us," she replied, with distinctive broad Australian accent. "We're waiting on more ground drones to support us before we move forward."
> 
> "Logistics have been shot up," Fred supplied.

John turned to the Lieutenant. Her eyes were sunken with defeat, but she was not going to down without a fight.

> "Hold this position, and head to evac in ten, we'll take it from here," the Spartan ordered.
> 
> "Yes, sir."

Waving Blue Team forward, the Chief lead them through the once majestic homes. The three-storey mansions were all shot up, windows shattered and charred; some were even covered in blood from both sides.

"Sniper!" Kelly cried, as a lance splashed onto her shields, draining it fully.

The team threw themselves to the floor and rolled behind cover, a mere half second later, an energy beam streaked through the air and grazed passed John's shields.

> "Target, front right," Fred called out, "fifty metres, marking."
> 
> A red dot appeared on John's hud.
> 
> "He's got cloak," the Spartan said, noticing his armour's sensors didn't pick up a signature.
> 
> "I got him," Linda said.

She levelled her anti-material sniper rifle, zeroed in on the mark and squeezed the trigger. The Jackal immediately winked back into existence as the tungsten dart tore through his torso, ripping him into a bloodied mess. There was probably concrete mixed with the pulpy mass as well considering that Linda had used a Raufoss round.

> "Target down," she said coolly.

The team moved up in a fanned out diamond formation, interlocking their field of fire as they moved from building to building. As they neared the pinned Chalk, the roar of gunfire intensified.

> "They're just around the corner, fifty metres up the block," Kelly said.

John quickly formulated a plan of attack.

> "Linda, provide overwatch from that rooftop," he pointed to a house with part of its roof blown off.

Her green acknowledgement light winked. The team sniper gracefully leapt across an overturned car, and used her suit's jumpjet pack to reach the elevated position. Pushing a few fallen beams and torn furniture around, Linda formed a suitable firing position which would be able to hide her signature and provide a reasonable amount of cover.

> "I've got a bead on enemy targets. Engaging," she said over TEAMCOM.

John turned to his team.

> "Let's move. Fred, hang back and cover our six."
> 
> "Copy."

Leap frogging their way through the sea of overturned vehicles and smouldering piles of rubble, the Chief lead his team down the road, and turned left onto a town square. The area was roughly the size of four sports stadiums, in the centre was a raging battle.

Men from the 2nd Airborne Division fired lances of cobalt blue at the enemies, keeping the horde at bay with terrifying accuracy.

> "This is Spartan Blue Team," John broadcasted over a secure channel.
> 
> " _This is Chalk Eight, we're pinned down by enemy forces,"_ came the reply. It was a middle aged man; he sounded like he was at his limits, but only held together by a determined sense of duty to those under his command. The Spartan could hear the chatter of gunfire and the frantic cries of wounded men.
> 
> "Sit tight, we're approaching from the south."
> 
> " _Copy that."_

The link was terminated. John panned his eyes across the square; the fire fight was so heavy and frantic that the Covenant soldiers failed to notice their own getting shot down by Linda. John caught the faint outline of the bullet wake as the round passed through smoke and bore deep into Yahg flesh.

John broke cover and sprinted along the boulevard, weapon raised. He literally ploughed through a group of Grunts. Their tanks ruptured, and their skin torn by shattered bone. Kelly and Fred followed in close behind, crushing the small aliens into pulp beneath the heel of the boots.

The Spartans squeezed the trigger, and in a matter of seconds scores of Brutes and Yahg jerked violently as their bodies were shredded and cooked by a heavy volume of cobalt energy beams.

A Brute Chieftain roared in a bloodlust raged, and raised his hammer for a charge. He had only taken four steps before his chest was turned into a mangled mess of bone and gore. John sent another silent thanks to Linda.

Taking cover behind a truck, the Spartans hosed the enemy position with accurate fire. Only then, did the Covenant know that the Spartans were there. Needler shards glanced off the metal surface off the truck, leaving a trail of luminescent violet in their wake. Spiker rounds pierced the alloy and glowed in the night, slowly dimming as they shed their heat and warped the hull.

Although Mendez had drilled it into the Spartans to take cover whenever they were shot at. John forced every fibre in his being not to bow down to instinct. He needed to put a little faith in the armour Halsey had designed for him. The dual layer shielding bore the brunt of plasma fire, flaring gold as it dissipated the savage energy.

He stuck to his gruesome task, cycling through clips whenever necessary and kept the pressure on the Covenant horde. Alongside his Spartan brothers and sisters, John managed to cut down dozens of the tri-mouthed _split-lips_ – as the Marines called them – and scores of Grunts.

Jackals armed with energy shields rushed forward and formed a testudo like formation. It allowed them to advance on the Airborne and Spartan position.

> "Strafe right," John barked, in an attempt to link up with the downed Chalk.

Kelly was the first to leave cover, drawing a heavy volume of fire. But she was fast and the shots splashed harmlessly in the trail of dust that followed her wake. Upon reaching another defensible position behind a fallen statue, did she stop and return fire.

> "Flashbang out!" she cried.

Tossing the incapacitating grenade over the Covenant, Kelly ducked behind cover and waited for the quick succession of explosions. The blinding flash and deafening clap went off simultaneously. Covenant soldiers were far more sensitive to light and sound, especially the Jackals, their resistance to flashbangs were appalling by human standards.

Grunts and Jackals alike stumbled aimlessly over one another as their senses failed them. Seeing this as the prime opportunity, John and Fred tossed frags into the enemy's midst, before loading a round into their grenade launchers.

A dull thump rolled across the ground, the powerful shockwave hurled limbs and bodies across the churned grass while hypervelocity shrapnel pierced through exposed flesh. Dozens of enemy combatants went down in mere seconds. Finally, the two Spartans delivered the killing blow, by firing their launchers.

The high explosive grenades arced through the air, and detonated into the ragged ranks of the Covenant. Yahgs and Brutes were thrown into the sky, and landed with a sickening thud on the rubble.

> "We're clear," Kelly shouted.
> 
> " _Chief, no more hostiles in the immediate area,"_ Linda said.
> 
> "Copy, double time to our position."
> 
> "Roger that."

John jogged over to the Chalks. Their Warthogs were a mangled mess of warped metal and shattered glass, all covered in blood. Men sat against the walls, blood seeping out of their wounds. There wasn't enough biofoam to go around. These men would've most likely applied the lifesaving compound to escaping civilians. Kelly went to work and did whatever she could, but the most she could do was give the men morphine.

> "Cavalry has arrived," one of the soldiers said.

The men looked at the Spartans, hope filled their eyes. But John knew it just wasn't enough. Hope can do wondrous things, but these men had seen so many words burn, so many friends slip, they were all so tired. He turned towards the CO, Major Tim Hastings.

> "How bad?" the Chief asked.

Part of Hastings's helmet had been cracked by a Spiker round ricocheting off of it. John could see the dried blood and cacked mud on his hands.

> "Four dead, five critical," the Major answered.

Pulling out the map on his HUD, the Spartan examined the most optimal route to Outpost Echo-Two. If he could get the Chalks to the outpost, he would have access to more men help him take on his primary.

> "Gather your men, and stay close, we'll walk you out," John ordered.
> 
> "Yes, sir."

The Airborne mounted whatever functioning vehicle remained, and prepared to drive out.

> "Linda, ride third Warthog."
> 
> "Got it."

All the men able to walk and fight took up formations around the five remained Hogs, and followed the Spartans to safety. The troop moved around overturned vehicles and over piles of burning rubble as they trudged down the road. Bodies, both civilian and combatant alike lay in the streets with grievous wounds, filling the drains with blood.

> "We've got a live one," an Airborne soldier said, gesturing to a fallen Yahg.
> 
> "Not anymore," another soldier said coldly.

He drew his sidearm, and planted a round into the hulking alien's head. The explosive force from the bullet tore off the horn and squashed brain matter onto the melted asphalt road. No remorse was shown for any enemy that relentlessly threw itself at humanity. They didn't care if they got wounded or killed, so long as they performed a deed that made them appear worthy in their gods' eyes, they didn't care.

> "Sniper!"

A lance of energy burned through the Airborne Soldier's shields, and boiled away his armour. It wasn't a lethal hit, but he would be out of the fight.

> "Get fire. Linda, trace!" John ordered.
> 
> "Contact left!" a Sergeant cried.

"Enemies moving in on our left! Light them up!" Hastings ordered.

Gunners swung their menacing M888 HMG on the incoming force. The deafening roar and the smell of ozone filled the air as the ion-hardlight hybrid weapons unleashed a torrent of savage energy down range.

Grunts danced from one foot to the other before being cooked in the very spot they stood. Brutes didn't stand any better as they were easy targets for the big guns. The heavy machine guns tore through the Jackal's armed shields as if there was nothing there.

> "Target, eight o'clock high. In the café balcony!" a soldier gestured.
> 
> A gunner spun his gun round and hosed the entire building. Sparks were sent flying as melted metal showered the furniture. Nothing inside the café could've survived such an onslaught.
> 
> "Café's clear!" a soldier said, scanning it with his sensors.
> 
> "Area clear!"
> 
> "Move out!"

The group of UNSC soldiers eventually reached allied territory, held by a mixed group of Sangheili lead forces and UNSC Marines. The CBD was so heavily damaged that glass lay on the streets as if it had been snowing. Wounded men and women were being carted away onto dropships, waiting to take them away to medical centres in orbit.

> " _Chief, Outpost Echo-Two is getting mighty jumpy right now,"_ Cortana said over the channels.
> 
> "We're two klicks out," John replied. "We'll get there sharpish."
> 
> The Warthogs came to a halt, and off loaded all their wounded into a makeshift hospital.
> 
> "I need a fresh team," the Chief barked.
> 
> "We'll take ball," said an ODST Platoon leader, Lieutenant Jake Tenshu.
> 
> "How many men do you have?"
> 
> "Forty men, ready to go."
> 
> "Get to Outpost Echo-Two," John ordered, "they need help asap."
> 
> "Yes sir."

The ODSTs quickly rallied together at the centre of the courtyard, before departing for the motor pool. Satisfied that the team would take up the slack, John radioed Cortana.

> "Relay to C-Two, Outpost Echo-Two will be receiving reinforcements. Piper Three-Eight is on approach for assist."
> 
> " _Copy that Chief,"_ there was a pause, _"how come they didn't sign in earlier?"_
> 
> "Remnant force."
> 
> " _I see. Out."_

John pulled up the tactical map over his HUD again. There were no definite frontline, everything was in flux. But the all Covenant forces were converging on Mount Sam Enterprises Tower en masse. Defence Contractors had yet to be evacuated from the building, word has it that they were working on a scaled down Halo Array weapon. Nothing was concrete, but if the real reason held half as much clout as the rumour did, then the whole Covenant Armada would be bearing down on that building.

> "Blue Team, rally on me, we're going to primary," John broadcasted.
> 
> "Let's do this," Kelly chimed.

**XXxxXX**

**ABOARD UNSC** _**HADRIEL** _ **–** _**INFINITY-CLASS** _ **CRUISER, IN ORBIT OF EARTH**

Hood kept his gaze on the tactical display, so far the fleets were holding. Already the first wave of evacuation ship had made it to the rallying point. Just a few more hours until the Coalition could retreat and enact a Hammer-Down Protocol.

> "Aneira, plot a course to this navpoint," Hood said, entering in the coordinates on the display.
> 
> "Yes, Admiral," the feminine voice complied.

The Admiral felt the ship shift beneath him as its engine flared. Every so often, he would hear the dull thud as the shields absorbed an attack. _Charon_ -class light frigates took up defensive positions around the ship, keeping an even rate of fire on enemy vessels, warding off any boarding parties.

Terrence examined the battle map again, and sent out orders to his naval groups. The UNSC ships moved into a pincer formation with Sangheili ships by their side. Covenant vessels flew straight into the mouth of hell as they were fired upon from numerous directions.

The lead _CAS_ -Assault Carrier barely warmed up its turrets before being gutted from stem to stern. A salvo from the UNSC _Infinity_ 's main gun smashed through the nose of the Covenant ship, shattering the head and punching through the reactor core before passing out the other end. It looked like two white-blue lances had skewered through a half dozen Heavy-Capital ships. Seconds later, the ships' superstructure caved in and the reactor core exploded, tearing them asunder and hurling molten metal out like a fiery flower. Something like that should've been terrifying and crushing for enemy morale. But Hood knew better, the Covenant was relentless, spurred on by the belief that the Great Journey awaited them.

> "Sir, we have a firing solution," the Principle Weapons Officer said.
> 
> "Light 'em up, Ensign," Hood ordered.

Lieutenant Commander Emma Gibbs gave a nod to confirm the order, as per standard protocol.

> "Firing solution acquired," the Peewo and Aneira said simultaneously.
> 
> "Fire."

All four guns were fired in quick succession, hurling multiple hypervelocity rounds into the Covenant formation. None of the ships had time to react before a gaping hole was punched through their hull.

> "Multiple kills, and multiple critical hits," Aneira said with some mirth. "Group Four-Charlie firing salvo."

The assortment of Cruisers and Destroyers lined up on their targets, and fired their missile pods. Hundreds of plumes of smoke trailed into space and found their mark. Warheads detonated, rippling against Covenant ships and draining them completely. Then the group opened fire with their Ion Canons. Dozens more ships joined their derelict friends, impeding enemy movement.

> "Hadley, how much longer until everyone is off planetside?" Hood asked.
> 
> "One hour, sir," the Ensign answered.

_God help us all_.

* * *

**MOUNT SAM ENTERPRISES TOWER, SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA, EARTH**

> "Enemy armour, left!" a soldier roared.
> 
> "Enemy armour, copy. Target acquired," an anti-tank soldier acknowledged.

A plume of smoke trailed behind the missile from his shoulder. The High-Explosive Armour-Piercing warhead slammed into the purple hull and detonated. A stream of molten thermite burned through the armour and burned the crew alive, a split second before the thunderous force ripped everything apart. A column of thick black smoke flowed out from the twisted slag and rose high into the sky.

> "Enemy armour down."

John left the foxhole and entered the main foyer of the building. Everywhere, staff members were carting off valuable technology to the evacuation centres, or relaying priceless data.

> "Chief, we've got enemy inbound, they're dropping in on the roof. Get up there now!" a Major General ordered. "We need to buy them more time."
> 
> "Yes sir."

Using the maintenance shafts in the lifts, the team managed to reach the rooftop in time to help the defenders fend off another assault. But the rooftop was not a simple flat surface with a few penthouse structures, heavy fighting had caused the upper two floors to collapse, creating an uneven terrain of shattered concrete and broken furniture.

Surveying the area, John found that the Marines had formed a chokepoint defensive perimeter to catch the Covenant in a killing field. But he also found a couple of bodies crushed under the might of the Gravity Hammer.

> "Glad you could make it sir," Captain Henley said, but he was quickly cut off. "Enemy air assault in bound! Knock that Phantom out!"

A Corporal shouldering SAM launcher levelled the weapon and zeroed his sights on the dropship. At the squezzed of the trigger, the missile exited the tube, leaving a trail of wispy white smoke in its wake. Seconds later, the Phantom shuddered under the impact and slowly careened out of the sky and slammed into an adjacent building.

But the Covenant was not yet defeated. Banshees swooped, showering the area with plasma bolts. Rebars melted, sparks were sent flying and molten concrete pooled onto the floor.

> "Take cover!" a Lieutenant ordered.

Men and women threw themselves behind whatever cover they could, UNSC Sappers threw up hardlight shields to absorb the brunt of the gun run, but it wasn't enough. Plasma burned through the light cover and overloaded the Marines' shields.

As the Banshees cleared and the eeries howls became distant, John could hear the blood curling cries of the soldiers. A medic dragged a woman with both her legs blown off. He had injected her with a dose of painkillers, but still her cries were evident whenever he pulled her over a bump.

> "Sound off!" the Captain called.
> 
> "Lieutenant Williams is down!"
> 
> "I'm fucked up but I'm still up," a woman said.
> 
> "Triple-Eight's out!"
> 
> "Out of missiles!"
> 
> "Incoming assault!"

John's HUD lighted up the incoming Phantoms in red. He trained his SCAR onto the lead dropship and waited for the drop doors to open.

> "Linda, see if you can do something about Company."
> 
> "Got it."

The sniper set up her anti-material weapon, and loaded a Raufoss magazine into the Gauss Weapon. John couldn't tell which ship she had targeted first, but after a quick succession of shots, two had suffered catastrophic engine failures and crash landed onto the roof.

The Marines were quick to respond as they lobbed frags into areas where the dropships would've most likely landed. A few seconds later, they were rewarded by dull explosions and pained cries.

"Engaging next target," Linda said coolly.

She unloaded all the remaining rounds in her clip, kicking up dust from around her and filling the air with a thunderous clap. Sparks danced off the Phantom's hull as the Raufoss rounds detonated and punched through its armour. John guessed that the pilot had been killed as the dropship began to bank wildly before crashing into a platform in front of him.

Immediately, the Marines turned all their guns onto the craft and unloaded round after round. The soldiers inside never stood a chance.

> " _This is Fireteam Theta, we're currently under heavy attack. Need assist, over."_
> 
> "We'll handle this, Captain," John said, he then switched his channels. _"Fireteam Theta, this is Spartan Blue Team, we're on our way_."

A Nav marker appeared on John's HUD as he ran through the mire of rubble to get to the stricken fireteam on the other side. He made it to a balcony area, overlooking the entire Sydney CBD.

Already a number of berserking Brutes were causing all kinds of hell, firing upon them would risk friendly fire. Fred was the first one to shoot off. With a shotgun in one hand and a combat knife in the other, he took on the ape-like creatures. He blasted a Brute Minor in the face with the semi-auto shotgun. The canister shot punched dozens of ragged holes into the alien's face, smashing it into a gorey pulp.

The Spartan then sprinted across the balcony and slammed his knife home into the base of another Brute's skull, cleanly severing the central nervous system from the brain. The massive alien was already dead by the time it crashed onto the floor.

A Chieftain roared in rage and charged the Spartan with his Gravity Hammer held high. Fred sidestepped and leapt out of the way. The hammerhead missed him, but before it had touched the ground, the Spartan had aimed a perfectly timed kick and knocked the weapon aside.

He barely caught the look of surprise on the Chieftains face before he levelled his shotgun and fired at point blank. The Brute landed with a dull thud, smoke curling up from whatever was left of its head.

In the span of a few short seconds, Fred had wiped out an entire squad of Brutes in melee combat. He shook his blade clean of blood and brain matter before putting it back into its sheathe.

Kelly quickly moved to administer medical aid to the wounded, but John could tell that her body language said that the chances of these men and women surviving were very slim.

Already, Linda found a suitable sniping position and began to go to work and provide cover for her team.

> " _Chief you've got…"_ whatever Cortana was going to say, John didn't hear it. None of the Spartans did.

But looking up towards _Campton_ did he realise why. A massive fireball billowed along the bottom hull. One of the accompanying _Charon_ -class frigates was split in half; its shields barely withstood the hit. The reactor ruptured and detonated, sending a powerful shockwave across the entire CBD.

> "Take cover!" a Sergeant cried.

The smoke was caught up in the shockwave; it was as if a nuke had gone off. Dust was kicked up into the air, and windows were shattered. Some of the buildings beneath that frigate had collapsed. Everything soon crawled into slow motion as John panned his eyes across the city.

As the explosion expanded, the remains of the ship fell to Earth. He braced for the shockwave. It felt like a brick wall had slammed into him. Everyone and anything around him that wasn't secure was simply tossed into the air like ragdolls.

When John came to, he had barely registered that Kelly had thrown herself over him seconds before a blue light washed over them. He felt himself being thrown across the balcony. The railings snapped under their combined weight, and soon the feeling of vertigo filled them.

He tried to stabilise himself, tried to stave off the rising sensation in his stomach but the alarms were blaring, nothing was responding. He could see Kelly's form above him, and the firestorm that enveloped the top floor. Plasma artillery arced overhead and slammed into the building. Glass and debris rained down all around him.

But Mount Sam Enterprises Tower began to topple. Sections began to crumble apart and fall off, like sledgehammer smashing through a block of ice. It was coming down straight on top of him. There was nothing he could do, but watch his own reflection in the glass and wait for the inevitable impact.

* * *

 **ABOARD UNSC** _**HADRIEL** _ **–** _**INFINITY-CLASS** _ **CRUISER, IN ORBIT OF EARTH**

> "Sir, enemy reinforcements have dropped out of slipspace," a Lieutenant said.
> 
> "Admiral, with those odds, we won't be able to hold," Aneira said.

Hood swore inwardly as he leaned on the tactical map.

 _Forgive me_ , he begged silently. A forlorn expression crossed his face as he was forced to make the toughest decision in the known history of humanity.

> "Relay the order," he breathed. "Initiate the Hammer-Down Protocol… god help us all."

With the order relayed to the rest of UNSC Command and UEG Hierarchy, it would only be a matter of minutes before the NOVA was launch.

* * *

**MOUNT SAM ENTERPRISES TOWER, SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA, EARTH**

John blinked several times and found dots swirling in his vision. The alarms continued to drone. He tasted blood and his heart was beating so fast that it threatened to break his own ribcage. He felt blood pool down his face as he fought to regain consciousness.

Slowly, he placed his hands on the ground, and pushed himself up. Looking down, he saw a number of flattened pieces of metal which would've surely punctured through his under-suit. It was times like these he was happy that the current iteration of the MJOLNIR Armour had articulated plates. It saved his joints from being impaled on rubble.

John slowly brought himself off from the ground, his SCAR was a mangled mess but at least his pistol was still working. He coughed, and saw droplets of blood splash on his visor.

 _Internal bleeding_ , he thought.

> "Report in!" he barked.
> 
> "John," a soft voice called out, it was Kelly.

The Spartan turned around and found his friend slumped against a massive chunk of rubble. Every muscle screamed out in protest from his movement, his body wanted to shut down, but his mind wouldn't let it.

> "Where are the others?" she asked, wincing in pain.
> 
> "They're dead." His voice softened, "they're dead."

Fred and Linda were gone, just like that. No last stand, just gone. Their armour was offline, and when that happened, the user was dead.

> "Your helmet's shattered," she whispered. "Take mine; I'm not going to make it."

Her back had been burned to the extent that she couldn't move without aid. Her armour was in no better condition either, but at least her helmet was in better shape than John's.

> "No, you're going to make it," John said, unwillingly to leave her behind like they did with Sam.
> 
> "No I'm not."

They eased their helmets off and handed them to each other. John's blue eyes gazed into Kelly's tired brown.

> "Go, I'll cover you."

The howls of Phantoms and the roars of the Covenant grew louder.

Kelly looked back at John and raised her hand to form the Spartan smile across his face. He felt a pang of sadness ripple through his heart as a tear slid down her cheek. Her arm wrapped around his neck as she drew him in for a quick hug.

> " _Dammit John, are you there!?"_
> 
> "I'm here," the Spartan said.

The signal began to clear up.

> " _You've got fourteen minutes,"_ the AI stressed. _"Fourteen. Minutes. To get the hell out of there! Hammer-Down has been initiated. I'm uploading a NavPoint on your map. It'll lead you to a bunker designed for this."_

She didn't sound too hopeful on that last part, but there wasn't much of a choice. Nothing had survived a NOVA intact.

> " _I've run some calculations, when the NOVA goes off, the hill or mountain or whatever the fuck it is – it will absorb most of the shockwave, and cave in over the entrance… just get there okay?"_
> 
> "I will," he said, though something inside him told him not to go.
> 
> " _And John,"_ it was Halsey, _"survive."_

The link was cut by static as _Campton_ entered slipspace, the brief blackout period that all ships went through when a portal was opened.

> "Go, John," Kelly pleaded.

She reached just under her neck sleeve and pulled out her tags, with a rabbit engraved onto one of them, and placed them into his palm.

> "Run."

John breathed in; he'd rather stay here with her. There was nothing left.

> "Please! For me."

Slowly, he nodded and pulled himself up.

> "I'll miss you," he said.
> 
> Kelly gave a sad smile. "Good luck, and take care."

He turned away from her and slid on her helmet, unable to say goodbye. He turned away from her, everything feeling surreal. He clambered out of the rubble and clawed his way to the surface. He heard the sound of her pistol go off, and the roars of the Brutes.

He sprinted down the road, his muscles screaming out in defiance. The nanites worked overtime to heal the damage. He felt the burn, he felt the strain; his body was shutting down. But he wouldn't let it. Whatever stims was left in the armour was all injected into his body.

He ran as fast as the armour would allow him, with one pistol in his hand, he fired on anything that moved. In his left, he held the Arbiter's personal gift for him, an energy blade with hydrogen fuel cells. Wispy blue air trailed in the wake of the crackling weapon.

He let the blade trail behind him, cutting through the ground and the occasional Covenant soldier. He heard enemy fire snap at his heels, but he didn't care. He sprinted across the boulevards, smashed his way through the buildings and cut down anything that stood in his path.

He knew he should've stayed with her, but something was beckoning him to go. He regretted following that voice. He should've stayed behind with her.

Looking at his HUD, he knew he didn't have much left to go. Just a few hundred more metres. He kept on running, his boots digging into the ground beneath him. The amount of force he had to exert to reach breakneck speeds was something more than the pavement could handle.

He ran up the hill, and finally reached the inconspicuous entrance wedged between a shopping mall and warehouse. The doors immediately opened as soon as it registered the tag. Only a few minutes left. John quickly ran to the elevators, entered it and punched in the keys.

He felt the platform shift and descend into the depths of the facility. Gravity manipulators kicked in, allowing the lift to shoot down into the depths without putting its occupants into free-fall. The elevator came to a halt on the bottom floor. As John stepped out, the counter reached zero. He knew that it would only be another minute or so until the shockwave from the NOVA arrived. He simply leaned against the white washed walls and waited for the impact.

The ground began to shake, and soon it picked up in tempo. Chairs began to roll around the secretary desk but everything else held into place. The bunker began to shift, matching the earthquake and annulling the frequency. But parts of the facility soon gave into stress as part of the roof came in like jagged teeth, dumping piles of Earth onto the tile.

RnD had based the facility on Forerunner technology; hopefully it would be able to survive. John waited out the storm, and soon, all was quiet. The light was still on, and the base's supply still full. He walked past the foyer and into the main office area. All of the desks had been cleared out, but the armoury still had a few things in it, and the mess hall was still stocked.

The Spartan analysed the area, it didn't follow traditional designs of UNSC Bunkers which were a labyrinth of security checkpoints, bulwarks and emergency bulkheads. Instead it was more or less a foyer which stood between the elevator doors and the main office area. On the left wing were the medical centre, armoury and cryobay, and on the right wing were the living quarters and cafeteria. Then again, the entire facility was experimental.

He walked over to the armoury first where he pulled off his armour and stacked them in a neat pile. Then he shed off the black-grey exo-suit weaved with the armour-dock points. With enough time, the nanites in the exoskeleton would bring the MJOLNIR back to full functionality. After taking a quick look at the weapons rack, John returned back into the main area, and looked at the readouts on the holoprojectors.

All the sensors had been scrambled, but base integrity remained at 100%. John was impressed, he had heard of the NOVA's destructive capabilities, but maybe the weapon was detonated at a distance away from the planet.

The Spartan entered the medbay, where he examined his wounds. A quick medical salve was all that was needed to heal the cut on his temple, and some medication to dull the pain of internal bruising. He walked over to a mirror and examined himself. He wore the black Mark VII under-suit, with ultralight armour, military pants and boots. The suit's chrome hardpoints glinted under the light, but everything seemed to be in good shape.

Looking at his face, John could pick out the very faint scars from combat and the augmentation procedures. They had long healed over and become a part of him. His rugged features were slim and had loss all the suppleness and glow of youth. But still, his skin was smooth, his hair still a mix between brown and auburn and his eyes a deep blue that seemed to glow in the dark.

He ran his hand over the curving scar over his right eye, before gazing down at Kelly's tags. For safe keeping, he looped them around his neck and went into the mess hall to get something to eat. He could feel the post-trauma starting to settle in. He quickly grabbed an MRE Stew from the fridge and threw it into the microwave, letting it heat up before taking out the hot contents.

John walked into the private lounge, equipped with surround sound entertainment. He set down the bowl of stew and juice box onto the coffee table, and turned on the TV. He selected an orchestral concert and let it play in the background as he ate. Eventually, his eyes became glued to the screen as he mechanically downed his food.

 _Kelly's gone_ , his mind wandered. _She's gone… dead! I left her behind. I could've stayed with her._

He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to push those thoughts away. He turned off the lights, save for the glass lamp on the mahogany stand. John used the controls to change to a movie.

Lord of the Rings _… she always liked_ Lord of the Rings, he remembered.

The Chief took in a deep breath, and switched over to documentaries. He skipped the ones about war, and eventually came upon TV Shows where he found one about cars. It would have to do. He needed a distraction.

But eventually fatigue settled in, it was time to sleep and give his body a rest. The room adjacent to the lounge was a bedroom, complete with an en suite. Despite being utilitarian in design, it was remarkably beautiful with its match of white and grey.

John peeled off his "smart-cloth" undersuit, boots and pants, and tossed them over the dresser. Left in his undershirt and shorts, he walked across the white carpet and found a small measure of comfort in it. Entering the bathroom, he entered his routine and let himself enjoy the five minute hot shower before cleaning his teeth and preparing for bed.

He dried his hair with a soft towel and folding it aside when he was done. He then set his pistol on the nightstand, and eased himself onto the soft mattress while pulling the warm duvets over him. A small part of him wanted to go into cryo sleep, but he needed to let everything sink in before going into the ice. He knew from experience that waking up from cryosleep after having been in a battle prior to go under, was a bad idea. He wanted to be focused and at peace when he woke up.

Lying on his side, John drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Weeks passed, and he continued on with his numbed cycle; sleep, eat, train and learn. There was nothing else he could do. There was nothing left on the surface, and there was no way he could get out either. John walked along the corridors of the facility, and entered the armoury.

The robotic stations and the nanites had repaired the armour to full working order. He pulled the exo-suit back on and one by one, he attached each piece onto his suit's hardpoints until the MJOLNIR was whole again.

_Systems operational… 100%_

He gathered what remaining weapons there were, a handful of pistols, an M7SC SMG and a few DEW FR SCAR Assault Rifles with a SOPMOD kit and an M7 _Spartan Laser_. He held the weapons to his magnetic plates and got a full readout of operational status. The SCAR resembled the Asymmetric Recoilless Carbine, with a rounder, sleeker and streamlined look.

Satisfied that none of the weapons would blow up in his hands, the Spartan walked down the corridor, across a catwalk and into the cryochambers. He set the base to lock down, if any sensors were tripped, he would know immediately. But a frown settled across his features when he discovered that the sensors in the elevator shaft had been overloaded. That could cost him dearly.

He settled into one of the cryotubes and let the form-fitting gel layer mould itself to the armour's articulated contours, while he set the 'wake-up' parameters. If power was going to cut out or any of the sensors were tripped, the tube would thaw him out immediately.

The MJOLNIR's ports opened, allowing the cool air to reach his lungs. After blinking a few times, John's world faded to darkness.

* * *

" _ **To: FADM Lord Terrence Hood From: LTCOL Doctor Essingdon Dominic Keyes**_

_I've done the preliminary calculations and evaluations as you asked. Unlike film makers and the dreams concept artists, mech warriors are not the next stage of warfare. They are not the tide turner of war. These heavy machines with a heavy amount of firepower are expensive to make and maintain when compared to regular equipment. They are also very vulnerable. A well placed sniper shot will be able to put the mech out of commission._

_Pound for pound of resources, a group of well-trained and well-equipped soldiers will be able to take down a mech. I've told the board time and time again, mech warriors is the worst way to endanger our own people's lives and waste resources which would be better spent protecting them._

_UNSC Combat Doctrine aims to have soldiers engage the enemy at long ranges, and avoid melee combat unless absolutely necessary. Our Doctrine aims to use stealth and surgical precision to eliminate key targets before moving in with shock and awe, whilst keeping collateral damage to a minimum._

_I can see how mech warriors can become useful in shock and awe, BUT they are a huge target. Sure there are applications where mech warriors would be extremely valuable, but those scenarios are as frequent as blue moons. If we are considering Flood Contingency Operations then we can see mechs being far more useful._

_However, in every combat scenario against a well-trained and well-equipped force, we see the mechs being outdone by specialist soldiers. Hollywood may make these machines look like gods of the fields, but a machine of this size is an easy target for snipers of heavy-weapons. Titanium-Aiglos3C Armour can only hold out against so much._

_These machines are_ _not_ _worth it for frontline applications. Any walker in general is a waste of resources. I know I have been an advocate for cutting edge technology, but this is the wrong way to go. I am well aware of the dominance of the Covenant Scarab, but that was because of their armour plating._

_In urban pacification campaigns, mech warriors would be best useful for bomb clearance and as immediate response. Other than that, the large sizes of these mechs leave them vulnerable to long range attacks. There are also the issues of concealment and manoeuvrability._

_We've seen that when our cities fall, the walker's large size become a hindrance._

_I propose that we issue the Ancile Industries' GALANTINE Powered Exoskeleton. The suit has been tested by ONI Counter-Intelligence Operatives, feedback received are positive (refer to Report-12.23.2565). Personnel from all branches praise the suit's modularity, capability and size. The suit is made out of a nano-carbon tubes smart cloth. Additional sensors help initiate electrical impulse to harden the surface in order to protect the user from blunt trauma and ballistics._

_One could argue that mechs would be best suited for heavy frontal engagements in urban environments. And while that is true, IFVs and MAVs perform at a much higher level."_ _**-Extract from an email sent by (UNSC Army/ONI) LTCOL Doctor Essingdon Dominic Keyes, to (UNSC Navy) Fleet Admiral Lord Terrence Hood** _


	2. Reclaimation

* * *

" _She might not be first choice for wetworks but she gets the job done. But she is definitely first choice if you a beacon of hope and a guardian angel."_ ** _-(Formerly; Alliance Navy and N7) Captain David Anderson, talking to (Alliance Navy) Admiral Steve Hackett_**

* * *

**ABOARD _NORMANDY SR-2_**

The woman sitting in the Captain's quarters had come a very long way to get to where she was today. Commander Jane Alice Shepard looked at her impressive military record that scrolled out on tablet before her. But it wasn't something she was proud of. Every achievement and medal she had earned was all marred by the blood of a friend. Having been raised on a ship with her parents, Jane had attended the best education the Alliance military could offer. At a young age, she had shown to be very adaptable and a capable leader no matter where she went. People described her as an easily approachable person; it allowed her to build friendships quickly. Yet for all that, she had seen too many friends die, and that was before being taken under the wing of the first N7 graduate, Captain (now Councillor) Anderson.

When Shepard had graduated from the Alliance Military Academy with a Suma Cum Laude, she had been overwhelmed with joy. But that was before her first taste of combat. A week after graduation, she was deployed to the frontier with a Command of green Alliance Marines. By god she was unprepared for that fateful day.

Her people were attacked by a massive Thresher Maw. The behemoth ripped through her men like they weren't even there. Its acidic glands spewed out caustic liquids which burned like white phosphorus. She remembered fighting through the pain while issuing orders to her woefully underprepared platoon. In the end, they managed to kill the bloody thing with the help of an armoured convoy. But by then it was too late, Shepard was the only one in her unit left.

Though just when she thought she could lie down and close her eyes, the colony was attacked again. This time it was by batarian pirates. Later she would learn that they weren't pirates, but a Hegemony Splinter Faction hellbent on killing as many humans as possible. Jane had spent the following 18 hours on nothing but stim-pack shots, holding back the batarian force with an assault rifle and her biotic prowess. The batarian bastards had thought it was a brilliant idea to throw a Thresher Maw egg onto the planet, wait for it to hatch and then come in and mop up.

By the time an N7 Squad had arrived, Jane was on the verge of breaking down. The punishment her body had endured from being shot, burned, biotic fatigue and brawling with batarians was almost too much. She spent the next month healing her tattered pale flesh. After that, she accepted a commendation for the N7 Program.

She had once remembered a story or a legend her grandfather told her. He spoke of humanity expanding far out into the stars without Mass Effect technology, a long time ago. She had read theories on humanity's history and why there was such an evolutionary gap. Nothing was concrete, except for the fact that no one could accurately trace the origins of the English language.

But with this theory of humanity being a powerful spacefaring race before a cataclysmic event, cult groups had sprung up all over human-held space. Fundies, they were called – short for fundamentalists. They had been the ones to constantly having rallies to stop humanity from joining the galactic community, they wanted humanity to stand independent and await for the day that their ancestors would return and uplift them.

She had met a few of them on her way to Rio. They tried to recruit her, but she declined. As bad as her experiences was with the batarians, she couldn't bring herself to be vindictive of extra-terrestrial species as a whole. The first thing the instructors had told her at Rio was the very same thing her mother kept telling her. Racism never did anyone anything good. A path of hatred and bigotry is never forgiving and just. Jane had taken that lesson to heart. It was because of that she had the privilege to be sent abroad and train with other species. She graduated with Honours after returning from a Military Specialist Asari Biotic School on Thessia.

Then came the fateful day when she became Anderson's XO. That changed everything. Since that day, she kept a reserved opinion about politics, only stepping in when it was necessary. Becoming a "military" super-cop had changed her world, changed her outlook. She had witnessed a Prothean message she barely understood, and watched the Spectre's best and brightest turn against the whole galaxy. She was a made a Spectre to hunt down Saren. There was no training; it was just a damn promotion. Rookie Spectre sent to kill Top Dog, without any support… what a _fucking_ joke.

Jane remembered her shock, the sheer stupidity and audacity of it all. She knew she was in over her head. But the weight of humanity on her shoulder and the heat of the moment spurred her on. When she took command, she realised there were worse things than having to hold a dying friend. Kaidan's calm voice never left her when he accepted his fate without question. He died on Virmire, guarding the nuke to cover her escape. Then she learned the existence of Reapers, massive sentient starships with the sole purpose of wiping out sentient life.

The Council didn't want to believe her. _Sovereign_ had caused so much damaged to the Citadel and its defence fleet that it was horrifying to even think that there was more than one Reaper.

Shepard's brooding turned her attention to the day she died, the day when _Normandy SR-1_ was shot to _hell_ in space by Collectors, an enigmatic race appearing to make strange requests for genetic subjects in return for their tech. Jane would've been happy to remain dead had she known the scope of what she was getting into. But Cerberus – the worst of the Fundies – brought her back.

Their leader, The Illusive Man spent billions of resources and credits to revive her, and give her a better body. He sent her on a mission to investigate what was happening to disappearing human colonies in the Terminus Systems. She had one hell of an eye-opening experience witnessing the underworld of the galaxy.

She leaned back into her chair and downed a glass of Serrice Ice Brandy. She wasn't much of a drinker, but she had a reputation for being able to hold more liquor then her body mass. It was mainly due to the unfair advantage that biotics and biotic amps gave her. She needed to dull the pain of being given (in the words of Joker) a tongue lashing face rip by Ashley Williams back on Horizon.

Feeling the need to take a shower, Jane tossed the tacpad onto the coffee table and walked towards the bathroom. Unlike most of the crew, she preferred not to wear a Cerberus uniform. Instead she wore her armour's black and red undersuit with light pads for protection and mobility. She wasn't insane enough to wear heels all day like Miranda did. And although Jane wore a form fitting suit, she at least wore cargo pants and boots over the top, and it wasn't a catsuit where the finer contours of a woman's body could be seen.

Shepard was proud of her own figure, and she understood where Miranda was coming from, using her appearance to have an advantage. But there was a line. Wearing a catsuit into a firefight is never the smartest of choices. And at least Shepard' suit was thick for added protection, and she wore a shirt underneath too. She doubted Miranda wore anything under hers but lacy underwear.

 _Not my style_ , Jane pondered as she pulled off her clothes and chucked them over the dressing rack. She looked in the full length mirror and could see the thin lines from the surgery. From what Chakwas had said, the scars will fade quickly as the skin graft was implanted successfully. In time, her skin will return to its smooth creamy colour, thanks to the surgery.

 _No more scars_.

Standing under the faucet and turning the tap on. Shepard let the hot water cascade down her brunette hair and roll over her body. Hot showers were a nice luxury on the _Normandy_ that she could enjoy indefinitely.

Satisfied that she was clean, she switched off the tap and dried herself off with a fluffy white towel. Grabbing a fresh pair of under clothing, Jane dumped the used ones into the laundry chute. Finally dressed, Jane sat down at her desk and picked a book out of the archives, and read a paper written by Doctor Conrad Verner speculating about the theories of the origin of man. In hypothetical terms he suggested that humanity's ancestors had nuked themselves for reason unknown – probably due to an intergalactic war, but the radiation levels surrounding Uranium Deposits and geographical layouts certainly pointed towards the notion. The _hypothesis_ was very convincing, but there was not enough evidence to support it.

Doctor Verner had garnered critical acclaim on his hypothesis; he just said it was something he did in his spare time. Amazing piece of work in Jane's opinion, his book literally shot every other Fundamentalist and Conspiracy theories out of the water. And his speculation wasn't too farfetched either. Everything was well within reason. Such as the speculation to why Earth's geographical formation unnatural and disturbed layout. He also stated that English would've been the dominant language, for uncovered copies _The King's English_ and various other books written in different dialects served to confirm that notion.

To this day, scholars argued whether it should be "ise" or "ize", "colour" or "color", "mum" or "mom". So far, those backing _The King's English_ were in the lead despite being heavily outnumbered. Nonetheless, the variations of English just became widely accepted and it all came down to accents in the end.

Having been taught by a teacher from Britain and parents from North America, Shepard's accent was something of a liar bird. She could mimic just about every English accent in existence, but her "native" accent was very neutral near accentless English, almost devoid of any extenuations of the vowels. If anyone listened carefully, there was a hint of a West Londoner and Brooklyn accent in her pronunciation.

Closing the article, Shepard looked at her reflection in the display cabinet. People said that she was a beautiful woman with her oval-heart shaped face, warm brown eyes, full lips, high cheekbone and high forehead face. But she found that hard to believe when she saw dull brown eyes staring right back at her. Tying her hair into a ponytail, she decided to close her eyes for a bit. But then her message alarm chimed.

> " _Commander,"_ it was Joker over the ship's intercom, _"Admiral Hackett wishes to speak to you."_
> 
> "Patch him through to me," Shepard ordered.
> 
> " _Aye, aye, ma'am."_

Shepard stood up from her seat and brushed a speck of dust on her suit. Her slender unglove fingers danced across the panels as she entered her ID Challenge Response.

Her display cabinet dimmed as a projector displayed Hackett's image onto the glass screen.

> "Admiral," Jane saluted.
> 
> " _Commander, we have a situation. I need you back on Earth for a briefing. I'm aware of your_ ties _to Cerberus so please leave your ship at a suitable location and use other means to get to the briefing."_
> 
> "Understood, sir."
> 
> " _Shepard, this is strictly off radar. Bring no one with you, except those you 'trust'. I want this contained."_
> 
> "I'm on it, sir."

" _Good, Hackett out."_

The link was immediately terminated soon after, leaving Shepard to ponder who to take with her. Hackett's concerns were well conveyed as whatever he was going to tell her, he didn't want any leaks. Garrus was definitely suitable to accompany her, but a turian on Earth might cause a bit of tension. So he was out of the question. Miranda and Jacob were a definite no-go, because of their affiliations to Cerberus. Mordin was a possibility, but he had ties to STG so that might be another issue. In the end, Shepard decided to have Kasumi and Jack. They weren't in the information business, and they were loyal to her or at least loyal to humanity anyway.

> "Joker," she said into the intercom, "plot a course for the Citadel."
> 
> " _Aye, aye ma'am."_

She felt the _Normandy_ shift beneath her as Joker steered the sleek ship towards the nearest Mass Relay. Knowing that it would be at least another twelve hours until she reached the galactic capital, Jane turned on the extranet to watch the news. As she lay her back against the pillows on the bed, she grew bored of listening to the same news over and over and over again. Using her Omni-tool, Shepard switched the channel to comedy. But the jokes on the show were bland; it seemed no one had good material these days. Everyone was too afraid of being political correct. The risqué shows weren't on at the time, so she let logic dictate.

Kicking off the shoes and pulling of her socks, Jane made her more comfortable for a power nap. She left the music on however; she loved listening to the soothing upbeat melodies that Joker had compiled for her. He had good taste in music, but just to stay on the safe side, she had EDI check that there wasn't any _explicit_ material. Jane wasn't keen on getting an earful of some asari being pounded, while asleep. Thankfully, her helmsman had been sincere and said that the playlist helped him sleep at night.

A few hours later, Shepard's internal clock woke her up. She swung her legs off the bed and pulled on her socks and boots before leaving her quarters. She had a small smile on her lips as she had a dreamless sleep, and a dreamless light sleep was the best form of night sleep she was ever going to have.

She walked over to her closet and pulled out a set of casual clothes. She replaced her black cargo pants with a pair of form fitting grey smart casual pants, black knee high leather designer boots, a white blouse and a black jacket which complimented her dark hair. Though she was going for the civilian look, it didn't mean she wasn't armed. Her Omni-tool had been fitted with military grade specs allowing her to create hardligt objects for offense and defence. On her belt, she had the powerful Phalanx pistol with a suppressor. Alongside her offensive arsenal, she had her kinetic barriers and cloak generator, just in case.

As she descended down the elevator, she wondered what Hackett wanted to tell her. Obviously it was something big because the level of secrecy involved, but how big was it?

The doors hissed open and there was Kelly Chambers working diligently at her post. She sent Shepard a smile when she saw that her Commanding Officer had rested up well without any issues. She'd be sure to forward the information to Chakwas.

> "Going somewhere, Commander?" Kelly asked in her cheery voice.
> 
> "Buying some supplies," Shepard said, "you're all good for shore leave until I get back."

A couple of crew members perked up at the idea of being able to spend some of their credits at the entertainment venues.

> "Ma'am?"
> 
> "I might be awhile, so might as well let you guys blow off some steam," Jane explained.
> 
> "Thank you, ma'am," the crew cheered.
> 
> Shepard felt the dull shifts as Joker piloted the _Normandy_ to the docking stations. Green lights pulsed at the airlocks, giving the all clear.
> 
> "Joker, you're good for shore leave until I get back," Shepard yelled into the cockpit.
> 
> "Jeez, you're going to be gone that long?" Joker pouted.
> 
> "Knock it off," Jane sighed.

Moreau laughed. "You still love us all. Don't worry; Miranda will make sure that I don't get into any trouble."

Shepard rolled her eyes. She knew that when she'd get back, Miranda would be tearing Jeff a new one, there was absolutely no point in trying to reprimand him. In any case, she'll probably get Zaeed and Jacob to tag along with the pilot, hopeful one of them was the sensible one and could at least minimise the damages.

Stepping out onto the main landing of the Citadel docks, Shepard gave her entre crew the quick rundown on what was happening, and everyone was free to do what they wanted to do –within reason and law of course. She then roped in Jack and Kasumi.

> "Hackett needs me on Earth, so tag, you're it," Shepard said to the two.
> 
> "Last I checked, there weren't any warrants on me, so I think I'm good," Goto chirped.

Shepard shot Kasumi a look.

> "I know for certain that I'll get past Immigration and Customs," the Master Thief reassured.
> 
> "I'd rather not know how."
> 
> "Don't worry about me. Worry about her," Kasumi gestured towards Jack.
> 
> "Screw you," the Biotic muttered.
> 
> "I'll wave Spectre status."
> 
> "Counter-productive to the whole 'incognito' business."
> 
> "Kasumi, just shut up," Jack sighed.
> 
> Goto sniggered.
> 
> "Jack, wear these," Jane said, tossing the powerful biotic a bag filled with a black wig, blue cargo pants for women, white top and a brown leather jacket with matching shoes.
> 
> "I'm not wearing these, Shepard."
> 
> "What?" she shrugged, sending the younger biotic, a look. "It's not you? That's the whole point, Jack. That's why I'm wearing makeup, now get changed."

A few minutes later, Jack returned from the change rooms.

> "This is messed."
> 
> "You look great," Kasumi sniggered, "you should wear that stuff more often. I'm sure Shepard will be happy to help you with shopping. I'll come with."

Shepard led her small entourage through the dockyard until finally reaching the Commercial Section. She used her credits to buy a couple of tickets for a ship headed to Earth. Considering that she had Cerberus's financial support at her finger tips… _what's an extra few thousand credits when compared to the two billion?_ She reasoned.

The tickets she bought were premium, which gave them access to the bar – free of charge – and comfortable seats. Though a small voice inside of Shepard said that Jack would be cleaning out the entire stock of alcohol, the Commander made a mental note to add some donations later. On second thought, maybe it was best to keep Jack on some kind of leash.

> "You spoil us, Shep," Kasumi cooed.

Boarding the ship, Jane looked around the cabin wearily. She had already made a few enemies after shooting up mercs and pirates across the galaxy.

* * *

**SYDNEY SPACE STATION – GEOSYNCHRONOUS ORBIT, EARTH, SOL SYSTEM**

Jane's eyelids parted as she gazed down on the planet below. Estimates in the previous century had predicted that Earth would be overwhelmed by global warming and that her ecosystem would reach a catastrophic _point of no return_. However, thanks to Mass Effect technology, scientists were able to bring the planet back to a safe equilibrium. Being the homeworld of humanity, the Alliance had spent billions in reclamation projects to beautify and enhance greenery. But it was night time in the Southern Hemisphere as the ship made its approach to the sea of stars dotted in a circular frame.

Despite how advanced Earth was, there were still regions that had still yet to join the modern age. Too much redtape and ethical issues should the Alliance move in all guns blazing. That was the problem with democracy in times of peace. People start to become lethargic or believe them to be disillusioned and then suddenly whatever the government or corporations did was soon perceived to be as the Illuminati at work. Or maybe it was and it was all just a big twisted conspiracy, but Shepard never really dealt with the issue fully. She just toyed with the idea every now and then.

The ship docked and the airlocks locked together. She led her team out of the craft and onto the chrome themed space station, filled with plant life and water features. Military stations were all utilitarian; there was nothing there to ease the eyes but a massive viewport over the planet. But here, no expense was spared on interior design. Jane could at least name a few of the sculptors who had their work here, and the style of the décor had a unique signature she had seen before on documentaries about extravagant hotels and casinos.

> "This way, guys," Shepard beckoned.

Jane walked past a counter and flashed her Spectre status. No argument and no fuss was made as everyone crossed the checkpoint. The guards kept their mouths shut because of their down to Earth nature, and none of them wanted to lose their jobs. The film industry had a habit of overplaying security officers, either making them to spineless or overzealous.

> "Have a nice day, ma'am," the Alliance customs officer said.
> 
> "You too."

With her team in tow, she made her way through the endless sea of holidaying families, travelling businessmen and contractors, to get to the shuttle-hire bay.

> "Welcome to Sol hires, how can I help you?" the female clerk asked.

Shepard knew that for PR purposes, companies preferred to have a living, breathing person at the front desk. The young woman tending to her was probably aged around 22, and judging by the way how the clerk spoke and held herself, Jane guessed that the young woman was undergoing tertiary education.

> "I'd like to hire out a shuttle for a day."
> 
> "Certainly."

The clerk went through a quick background check, where Shepard had to wave Spectre status once more.

> "Oh, Commander Shepard, I didn't realise…"
> 
> "I'd appreciate you keep this low-key."
> 
> "Of course, ma'am," the clerk's expression almost faltered. After all, how many days in a week did she get to meet anyone with Shepard's calibre? Answer, none. Shepard was in her own league entirely.

Picking up the keychip from the desk, Jane made her way to one of the shuttles. Sitting down in the co-pilot seat, Jane strapped herself in and entered in voice command.

> " _Where would you like to go?"_
> 
> "Sydney, Australia. Brighton station," she answered, looking at the map.
> 
> " _Plotting course. Course set."_

The engines flared and the craft lifted itself out of its port before flying down the runway. Inertial dampers kicked in to stop everyone bouncing around. Re-entry inside a not-so-aerodynamic vessel is never a pleasant experience.

As the Kodiak shuttle slowly descended, the massive city skylines of Australia began to fill the viewport. Unlike military Kodiaks, the civilian variants were loaded with entertainment systems and composite-duraglass windows. Rarely did Shepard get to experience this kind of view, despite spending the vast majority of her life on ships.

Looking into the main hold, Shepard saw that Kasumi was reading a brochure on museusm and that Jack was gazing over the planet with glazed and forlorn eyes. Shepard knew that look; it was the look of longing. With the Kodiak soaring over the entertainment district, Jack's expression softened even further as she placed a palm on the glass. Jane averted her gaze away and felt a pang of sadness for the young woman. She may have a tough tattoo exterior moulded by Cerberus's cruel biotic program, but she was still human.

> " _Incoming transmission,"_ said the shuttle's speakers.
> 
> " _Attention, Kodiak number two-five-dash-alpha-one, you are entering restricted airspace, please identify or return to minimal safe distance."_
> 
> "Commander Shepard, here to meet Admiral Hackett."

There was a brief pause on the other end.

> " _Code in, whiskey."_
> 
> "Rum and gin," Shepard countersigned.
> 
> " _Commander Shepard, you're cleared for landing."_

The link was terminated; Jane took over the flight controls and  
manually guided the Kodiak to its destination. She dipped the vessel over a hillside, passing over a land-expansion site before dropping down into a small harbour-like area.

 _Bloody ant farm_ , she thought.

Mantis attack gunships and Alliance shuttles were orbiting the site of incident, circling like birds of prey. With the enhanced vision Cerberus gave her, Jane was able to see the ranks of Marines forming a staggered defensive perimeter, allowing Mako Tanks to lock down ground approach vectors. Hammerhead tanks stood on standby, ready to pounce.

> "Shit's going down here," Jack muttered.
> 
> "That's why we're here," Shepard said.

She had to admit that such activity had perked her curiosity. Prefab structures were already being erected as heavy earth moving equipment was deployed. In the centre of it all, was a heavily damaged shaft. Well the top part looked like it had bitten off, but the rest was just covered with dirt. Around it however were a number of large metal plates stacked atop one another.

The Kodiak touched down on a makeshift landing pad under the cover of floodlights. Turning off the engine, Shepard got out of her seat and disembarked. She felt the warm summer breeze wash across her face and tousle with her hair a bit. Slightly annoyed at her locks getting in the way, she tied them into a quick ponytail.

Already, there was Admiral Hackett waiting for her. Flanking both his sides were the 81st Commando Division Soldiers. They were the Alliance's answer to the demand of flexible elite light infantry. They wore their trademark emblem on their shoulder pads, a shield with a flaming battle-axe lying diagonally across. All the men were armed with the Next-Gen N7-Valkyrie Assault Rifle. The sleek black rifles were outfitted with the latest accessories available. However, a number of men were armed with the N7 Typhoon LMG instead. They would serve as the shields and suppressors of the unit.

> "Commander Shepard, glad you could make it," Hackett greeted.
> 
> "Sir," Jane saluted.

She lowered her hand as the Admiral lead the group towards the centre of the dig site. A team of N7 Operatives patrolled the area in their standard issue gear. All of them gave Shepard a nod of acknowledge as she passed by. She too returned the gesture as a sign of good faith and camaraderie.

> "What's the situation, sir?" the Spectre asked.
> 
> "Long story short, Shepard, an electric company detected a 'massive' power source in this area?"
> 
> "Massive?"

"Big enough to raise some concerns," Hackett shrugged. He pulled up a display on his Omni-tool. "These power fluxes mimic a collapsing star."

The feed expanded outwards and showed a layered cross-section result of the harbour.

> "Our analysts believe that we're standing on top of a cold-fusion reactor core."
> 
> "We don't have anything like that, do we?" Shepard tilted her head.
> 
> "No," Hackett shook lightly. "Nothing like this, deep scans show an installation, probably military – heavily damaged. As you can see here, these pipes run out into the ocean. But the recent land-expansion projects have blocked them off."
> 
> "That's meagre… 'assuming its cold fusion' I mean."
> 
> "Well, it's all we had to go on with."
> 
> "What do you think this could be?"
> 
> "Have you read Doctor Verner's thesis?"
> 
> " _Man's missing past_?"
> 
> "That's the one. We think he's not far off from the truth."
> 
> "You mean…" Jane began to eye the centre of the dig site.
> 
> "Yes Commander, what's down there could've been built like our ancestors. We are standing three kilometres over our missing link."
> 
> "My god," she whispered to herself.
> 
> "Engineers have cleared away all the dirt and rocks, which have been examined to be a thousand years old," Hackett explained, leading the group towards the shaft.

The Admiral wasn't dressed in his usual dress suit, but in light-combat gear. Mud was smeared all over his pants, it looked like the man was more curious than he let on, and he was expecting trouble.

> "We were expecting some kind of cave in or something, but the dirt had been held back by a bulkhead sealer." Scans didn't penetrate the hull."

Jane peered down the shaft, drones were moving back and forth to remove the dirt and rocks away. The shaft's cross-section was approximately 10x15 metres.

> "How long until we go in?" she asked.

Hackett looked at a report from his Omni-tool. "Engineers say that there having a tough time trying to find out what's on the other side. The walls are lined with lead or a dense alloy that stonewalls our sensors."

Jane frowned, but at the same time was filled with a sense of awe and speculation. Here was possible proof of man's missing history. The key to the inextricable and unexplainable gap was here.

> "Ask one of the Gunnery Chiefs to see if you can get an N7. Tell them to charge it to my account," the Admiral suggested, gesturing to one of the prefab shelters.

Shepard considered the option and decided to go through with it. She walked along the unearthed dirt and clambered over a few mounds to get to the building. Inside was the Alliance's next generation of weapons slated to supersede their current batch sometime in the following year.

> "Nice," Kasumi whistled.
> 
> "Commander Shepard," a middle aged woman greeted. Her name tag said; _Audrey Gould_. She briefly panned her eyes across the Spectre's cadre, but gave them no second thought. Having a hero's image did come in handy at times.

_This is new…_ Jane thought. Never in her lifetime had she encountered a female Gunnery Chief that old. She had weathered brown skin, watchful eyes and greying hair.

> "I'm Granny."

_Somewhat appropriate,_ the Spectre thought dryly. "Admiral Hackett said I could drop by and pick up some new guns."

Granny pursued her lip and looked at a weapons rack on the grey wall.

> "The N-Seven Line. Well come on and have a look."

Jane found it slightly unnerving and scary how Granny could easily talk about weapons, like Chakwas could talk about surgery. The air of casualness and the maternal instinct in the air was unfamiliar and somewhat unwelcoming. But Shepard concluded that it was along the lines of an acquired taste. Marines passed by and gave their respects to Granny before moving on; even some of the officers stopped and gave her a salute.

> "Phalanx pistol, I'm sure you're familiar of it," Granny said, gesturing to Shepard's hidden sidearm. "The Engineers at R-N-D decided to give it an upgrade. The N-Seven Eagle."

The Gunnery Chief produced a heavily modified version. It looked like a sleeker, matte-black M-5 Phalanx with an integral silencer.

> "As great as the M-Eleven Suppressor is, it is one ugly weapon. I've decided to combine it with the Eagle, and here's the end product. I'll forward the design back to OHP and collect the royalties. This thing of beauty will help even out the odds."

Shepard picked up the sidearm and twirled it in her hands. It was lightweight and perfectly balanced, yet it also felt extremely powerful.

> "What have you decided to call it?" the Commander asked. "Clearly not Seven-Eleven though."
> 
> Granny gave a short laugh. "Heavens no. Mark-One-One-Seven Hoplite."

Jane recalled her history classes; she remembered learning about Ancient Greece. There wasn't much on them, well, there wasn't much information than anything spanning beyond six-hundred years. Information beyond that point in time was rare. However, there was an anthology that offered insight into the Greek culture. Though damaged, the book painted an accurate image of Athenian culture, Greek Olympics and Grecian Warfare. Hoplites and their Phalanx formations had proven themselves to be extremely effective fighting formations. Hence the name of the pistols, but the anthology did refer to a city known as Sparta and its Spartan culture – specifically martial culture. Numerous referrals indicated that the Spartans were excellent warriors, being able to fend of vastly numerically larger forces. Though what was more disturbing was that there were references to Spartans in texts dated just over millennia ago. It meant that someone had "revived" the superb soldiers.

> "I'll grab a crate," Shepard said to the Gunnery Chief.
> 
> "Should I bill them to Hackett or you?"
> 
> "Hackett," Shepard answered immediately. "He'll bill them to me later."

Granny then walked over to the next rack and showed the baseline N7 Valkyrie. Of course they had all been upgraded according to their serial number, it was just they were devoid of any accessories.

> "I'm assuming you'll want these. Our friends in the Eighty-First love these rifles."
> 
> "Crate, and send Hackett the bill."

Granny showed them a few more weapons, but Jane settled for the Valkyrie, Hoplite and Valiant. She had debated whether to take the N7 Hurricane or not, but the recoil and low accuracy was not worth the fire rate, in comparison to the Kasa Locust. They were specialist weapons tailored to her needs or the needs of specific team members. Everyone else was more than comfortable with what they had. Shepard doubted that Garrus would ever abandon his Mantis or Viper Sniper Rifles, even if he tried. He had configured and calibrated them perfectly to suit his needs.

Shepard and her team spent the better part of the hour grabbing whatever military-grade hardware they could get their hands on to upgrade their weapons. Jane was pleased to find out that these SOPMOD kitted weapons had selective fire, allowing her to alternate between semi, two-round burst (her favourite), three-round burst and full-auto. These weapons were designed to have a specific purpose while retaining the Alliance's maxim of flexibility and modularity. She kitted out her Valkyrie with an extended/suppressor hybrid barrel, piercing mod, stabilising grip, optics and extended clip. In summary, as much of the SOPMOD kit as long as it did not impact heavily on manoeuvrability.

Satisfied that all weapons were in working order, Jane decided to don on some light-combat armour, just in case. They weren't full body, they just protected the vitals. Elbow, knee and shoulder pads with an armoured vest.

_Good enough._

Sliding the weapons into place, Shepard beckoned her team out of the armoury.

> "Thanks Granny."
> 
> "Anytime."

Jane's Omni-tool pinged. She guessed that the Sappers had finally made some progress. As she got back into the dig site, the Engineers were already moving a lift into place. There was a lot of safety winch cable with them too.

> "We're ready to go in," Hackett said.

"Are you going to come with us, sir?"

> The Admiral shook his head. "Media birds are on us, I've got to go make up an excuse."
> 
> "Good luck, sir," Shepard said with a half-smile.

She led her team to the elevator where the Engineers had already attached their systems to the shaft.

> "We're ready to go."

As the team boarded, some of the other Alliance soldiers sent Shepard and her team weary glances. They all believed in her, but sensationalist media had a tendency to blow things out of proportions. Already there were rumours of her working with Cerberus. But then again, the rumour didn't have much stock going for it to begin with and they had already been circulating for quite some time.

 _Good thing I didn't bring the_ Normandy, Shepard thought to herself, recalling the ship's orange-yellow, white and black livery.

* * *

**UNSC BUNKER**

Cool air flooded through his lungs, a slow tingling sensation rolled across his body as the first sparks coursed through his mind. His chest constricted and heaved, but he fought to keep the contents down. The glass hatch hissed open, white mist flowing onto the metal floor.

Quickly John pushed himself off the form-fitting gel bed, and collapsed to his knees. His skin and muscles felt like burning crystals, he'd been under too long. The nanites were working to heal his body, but it wasn't fast enough. He pulled off _Kelly's_ helmet and let it clatter to the deck. His chest heaved again, and this time he coughed without restraint. He shook violently as he spat out a long greenish trail.

Bronchial sulfunctant always tasted horrible, the scientists never seem to get the flavour combination right. But then again, nothing tasted nice if it came back up the throat. He blinked a few times to clear out the spots in his vision. Every time his eyelids closed it was like a bittersweet sensation. A soothing, softening feeling mixed in with sharp pinpricks. He dragged in a deep breath, stabilising himself as memories rushed back. _Earth, Hammer-Down, escape, bunker, Kelly…_

 _Too long_ , he thought. He'd been in the tube for too long.

> " _Reactor core is almost exhausted. Fuel source depleted."_ the Base's custodian computer said, in its disembodied female voice. "
> 
> "Display results."
> 
> _"Command confirmed."_

A holo-screen materialised into existence in front of the Spartan. Sensor data was displayed in its raw form, until their windows fanned outwards to make room for an information display – an interpretation of all real-time data.

Someone had blocked off the water to the cold-fusion reactors. Of course the system hadn't detected that until it was too late. External sensors had been knocked out by Hammer-Down

 _Innies or survivors_? The Chief wondered. He assumed the later; there was no mention of the UNSC, no sign of the UNSC. These people were in blue armour, save for the group in the middle who were wearing casual clothing.

Quickly, John's mind ran through a sequence of scenarios. The Spartan inside of him had nothing concrete to offer. He couldn't just shoot his way out. Because if he did, then the people up top would seal off the shaft. But the intelligence officer and tactician inside of him had a plan.

_Play possum, and see where they take you._

The Spartan quickly doubled back into the armoury, tagged the weapons while grabbing a handful of everything and then sprinted over to the cafeteria where he purged the entire food source. He needed to make this look convincing. While the system purge was underway, John headed over to the laundry room and hauled the clothing into the main bunker area.

He threw the clothes, armour and weapon all around the area. The majority in the cafeteria and the main hall. Once that was done, he sprinted over to the garbage dump and smeared the waste onto the clothes. Too bad there weren't any skeletons lying around, but he'd have to improvise.

There were a few C12 packs in the armoury. Without much time to spare, he placed them in small amounts around the bunker. He was careful not to knock out anything too important. Making a final check, John ran to the cafeteria area and created a barricade of sorts, not for his own protection of course.

They were going in with their own equipment. Good, that allowed him more time. John took in a deep breath, and detonated the explosives. Pockets of explosions ripped throughout the entire facility. The fire-extinguisher networks were severed. All data was purged and power cut.

C12 was a "clean" explosive. It's chemical compounds were designed for maximum shockwave effect. There was a near zero carbon emission from the plastique. Sections of the bunker collapsed, parts of the roof caved in. Now it was time to wait.

> " _Unauthorised personnel are descending down the shaft. Elevator damaged."_

Another screen materialised to John's left. Sensors strips within the shaft painted a very clear image of the group's armaments and armour. In a defensive square, heavily armoured men stood guard with high-powered weapons.

Audio feed began to flood through the speakers.

> " _What do you think we'll find here?"_ a man asked in English.
> 
> " _Our past, our missing link,"_ a woman suggested.

* * *

**DESCENDING INTO SITE OF INTEREST**

The air was filled with tensions. It was almost impossible to move freely in it. The Commandos held the guns primed at the heavy doors, illuminated by their flashlights. The dull thumps they felt earlier didn't serve to calm their edgy nerves, but the analysts upstairs had assured them that it was probably the reactor core going offline.

> "How the bloody hell are we going to get through that?" a Corporal muttered.
> 
> "We'll call in something," Jane said. "Everyone form up. We don't know what's behind these doors."

It took the better part of the hour to call in ample amounts of thermite tap and a blow torch down into the shaft. Once they had arrived, it was another long, tensed filled wait as the engineers worked to boil away the extremely stubborn metal alloy.

The process was slow and cautious, sparks were sent flying onto the platform, and molten metal pooled around the door until finally, a sizeable opening was made.

> "Send a drone through there, I don't want any surprises," Shepard ordered.

An engineer complied, entered a few commands into his Omni-tool and sent the orange orb inside. He scanned the area, and frowned.

> "What is it?" Jane asked.
> 
> "Inside's been shot to shit ma'am."

Shepard ushered the Commandos inside. Like a well-oiled machine, they fanned out and secured the area. With their overlapping field of fire, they had the place secured.

> "Clear up!"
> 
> "Clear down!"

Floodlights crossed paths as they swept back and forth the eerie darkness. Recovery Teams moved in from the elevators and began to set up sensor drones to light up the area, revealing the shattered scene that waited for them. Jane soon entered, her sensors leading the way. After passing the smell of ozone, her nostrils were assaulted by a horrid stench. She regretted not having a helmet on.

> "Shit," Jack murmured.
> 
> "You are so buying me a new bottle of soap," Kasumi gasped.
> 
> "Going to Tuchanka is now officially off my bucket list," the Master Thief proclaimed.
> 
> "You went there with Mordin last week," Jack groaned.
> 
> "For holidays."
> 
> "Why the fuck would you want to go there for a holiday? Not a good place for a tan… or anything," Jack turned.
> 
> "Belt up," Shepard reprimanded. "Fan out, and tell me if you find something."

_This is it… the missing link_ , Jane thought to herself.

She looked around the damaged interior. It looked like the aftermath of a hellish battle. What appeared to be human remains were strewn all over the place. It seemed rot had a chance to set in as well, judging by the charred piles of sludge that remained. Parts of the structure had collapsed as if someone had been dropping shells onto the base.

The Spectre walked over to a greyish white desktop, shattered and burned. It was the foyer's main desk. Gingerly, she knelt and picked up a piece of grey cloth, ragged and torn. All that was left where the letters _UNS_ and what she guessed was a _C_.Her hopes of finding the age old questions were evaporating quickly. No one was reporting anything solid other than damaged weapons, shattered armour and a lot of shit-smelling foulness.

Decaying remains looked _preserved_ ; they had to be after being in an enclosed environment for so long. But with a space this expansive… something just didn't add up.

She guessed from the charred interior design that this place had a civilian involved with it, despite the strong amount of military presence it once had. Somehow, it served to ease her nerves that maybe her ancestors weren't oppressive tyrants… or at least openly oppressive. But that was just hunch. Then again, what kind of dictatorship would have aesthetically appealing environments?

 _Could be said dictator's bunker_ , she reasoned. _But I see "colourful" casual clothes._

Maybe it was a bit too early to jump to conclusions, but she would press on and look for something.

> " _Hey Shep,"_ it was Kasumi, _"we've got nothing in the cryogenics bay, everything's destroyed."_

Shepard frowned. No survivors then.

> "Copy that, keep searching."
> 
> "I'm getting a dark patch from the cafeteria," a Recon Commando said.
> 
> "What makes you think it's a cafeteria?" another asked.
> 
> "I see chairs, tables, booths and serving stations on my scanner. Ergo, cafeteria."

Jane followed the soldiers up an elevated platform and onto marble tiles marred by soot and grime. They headed down the corridor which had display cabinets within its walls, before reaching what was left of the eatery. Tables were overturned, chairs splayed hap-hazardly and a lot of human remains. Well, she assumed they were human remains; everything was too decomposed to identify.

> "How long did you think they've been dead for?" a soldier asked.
> 
> "Hard to say, judging from the remains and the state of this place, at least a few hundred years. They're all dust… but some of them are fresher, maybe a few months," a Corpsman answered. "No bones… take that as you will."
> 
> "I think we can rule out natural," Shepard said, kneeling down an examining a shattered helmet.

Despite its state, it didn't look particularly worn out. The people who died would've had been freshly supplied when they were killed.

> "Hey! I got something!" an N7 Operative called out. She had her weapon in hand, ready to snap into position.

Shepard carefully approached her position by the barricade of partially melted tables. She could feel a chill run down her spine as she examined the damages. It looked like plasma or particle acceleration, but the explosive cavity of the damage suggested kinetic as well

The Spectre peered over the barricade and felt an icy hand grip her heart. It was huge. A figure, humanoid slumped by the wall, pocket marked with burns and chips. She ran through some quick calculations and guess the thing would have to be at least seven feet tall at full height. Beside it lay a large weapon (in proportion to her), it was sleek and streamlined and looked downright _fearsome_. It appeared to be a front-loaded weapon, a design that had not seen service for at least a hundred years. Somehow, she doubted that the clip inserted into the slot in front of the trigger, contained bullets.

Gently, she lifted herself over the barricade and approached the figure cautiously. It could be a trap; she had many things that looked dead enough jump her. But it looked the greyish green behemoth was inert, as she shone her light over it, she noticed that the light coming back was _off_ , more dull and dim than possible. It died with a very human like pose too. Back slumped against the wall, arms dapped over its splayed legs and head tilted to one side. Death for it would've been painfully slow.

_Hmm, no dust, no blood, and no damages… pristine condition. Interesting._

Jane edged closer, crouching by the armoured being's side. She looked into his gold reflective visor and saw her own reflection. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she examined the armour more closely. It had articulate plates, like those used by medieval knights, but with today's technology it was extremely difficult to pull something like that off. There were parts exposed however, she looked at the separation between the shoulder pauldrons and neck plates and saw an undersuit. It looked thick and tough like Krogan hide. On the right breast plate were the inscribed _117._

She knew exactly what she was staring out, military hardware perfection, made by the ancestors. She brought up her omni-tool and performed a reading. Waving the device over, she read the preliminary results. The armour was an absolute black body. There was nothing active inside… or she couldn't read anything inside because it was passively blocking her, just like the facility had.

More and more soldiers began to crowd around, assured that the base was inactive. She could tell by their body language that they were extremely excited and awed.

Despite how powerful the armour look, Jane performed her examination with infinite care. She guessed the occupant would've died of starvation. Or maybe there was no user and it was a next-gen mech? But then again, why would it _die_ like that. If it was a mech, it would've stood inert, not slumped against a wall.

> "Place is safe, call the rest in," Shepard ordered.

* * *

**ALLIANCE TESTING FACILITY, BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA, EARTH**

Due to the sensitive nature of the Base, Shepard was forced to leave her team on the landing pad above ground – as well as her armour and weapons, except for her Hoplite Pistol. She had followed Hackett through the maze of security checkpoints until finally reaching the lab wing which held all of the items found within the Bunker.

As she stepped onto the catwalks stretched over the modular labs, Jane panned her eyes to take in her environment. In the centre of the main room were Verner and the armour, to the far right was one of the weapons recovered and to the left high was an observation room.

Doctor Conrad Verner looked extremely sleep deprived yet insanely excited. She had met the man before, after her induction into the Spectres. He was slightly neurotic and comparable to Mordin Solus. The man was busy running diagnostics on the armour, furiously tapping away at the console.

She and Hackett walked onto the elevator which descended down to the main floor. Despite being dressed in civilian clothing and wearing make-up, Verner still recognised her whereas many others hand not.

> "Ah, Commander Shepard and Admiral Hackett, good to see you," the scientist smiled warmly. He adjusted his AR glasses before extended a warm hand.

Shepard returned the gesture as well as Hackett. A number of the junior scientists stopped for a moment and looked at Jane, trying to figure out if it was really her. Rumour has it that she had been killed, but was brought back to life. She smiled inwardly, satisfied that her ability to disguise herself was still up to scratch.

> "What do you have for us, Doctor?" Hackett asked.

A smile spread across Conrad's face.

> "Most of the weapons you found were destroyed, I tried to get a carbon sample for testing but whatever happened it was clean," he began. "However, we have one that is still working… and get this."

His voice grew more excited as he added additional enthusiastic hand gestures.

> "Get this… it has Latin script. FR SCAR-H Mk Twenty-Seven imprinted on the side."

Verner lead them over to the weapon bench where the rifle was clamped securely down, rigged up to a firing mechanism and aimed down range. It was the same one she had found by the armour's side. Its profile was similar to the N7 Valkyrie, but instead of having two barrels, the FR SCAR-H Mk 27 had symmetrical trapezoids spaced apart, and within the small confines of the trapezoids was a large barrel. The apparatus mounted on the under-barrel was assumed to be the grenade-launcher. Directly behind the grenade-launcher's trigger was an angled-foregrip which was followed up by the magazine slot. Additional attachments included a bipod for increased firing stability, and optics.

The weapon's general design and attachments flew in the face of what was generally expected of a more technologically advanced group. Filmmakers painted high-tech weapons to be uniformed and lacking in accessories. But here, the SCAR-H was outfitted with so much equipment that it would make a soldier drool.

> "I've toyed around with the settings; so far we're looking at laser and particle accelerator hybrid... and some other unknown energy type which acts like a kinetic projectile. Here, I'll show you."

He pointed to the mechanical flip, currently pointed to a crossed out box, which Shepard guessed _safe_. Additional settings were two-burst, three-burst, semi and full-auto. Behind the firing settings was another additional set marked out as _L, L + HL,_ and _L + HL + I._

> "We'll go on L first… L for laser," Verner grinned – somewhat evilly. Now Shepard knew why her cousins were so afraid of their physics teacher.

The group retreated to a firing station, behind a protective barrier. A number of drones set up a mannequin wearing standard issue armour.

> "Firing in three, two, one," Verner pressed the button.

Instinctively, Shepard expected to hear a loud whine and see a brilliant flash of light like the old sci-fi films, but instead, she heard nothing and saw nothing – just like her rationale mind said. The composite armour had a gaping smouldering hole inside, smoke curling up and molten dripping onto the deck. The camera's showed that a small clean hole had burned cleanly through the target.

> "I'm guessing that this weapon was designed with the purpose of scoring killshots first time. Application is stealth," Conrad said with a very _morbid_ glee.

Jane couldn't help but arch an eyebrow at the pure effectiveness that this weapon would have in stealth applications. A weapon like this could definitely tilt the favour for whoever was using it.

> "The laser is in infrared," Verner explained, "but it is honed extremely, directing all of its energy into the target without wasting it into the atmosphere. Even if you had infrared goggles, you'd still be hard pressed to see the beam."
> 
> Conrad entered a few commands into the console, cycling in a fresh target.
> 
> "The last mannequin I used mimicked human biology and it had Kinetic Barriers. The laser bypassed the barriers and cauterised the wound, very clean. Now, here's the Laser-plus-HL setting. I'd say HL stands for Hard Laser or Hard Light."

The scientist's grin grew so wide that it threatened to split his face. Shepard noticed a number of scientists adjusting the settings on the camera controls.

> "Firing in three, two, one!"

A loud thunderclap echoed through the lab. A brief blue hue flashed over the mannequin as its barriers flashed but held firm, according to the display in front of Shepard. But like the mannequin before, a small "clean" hole appeared with smoke curling up from the molten openings.

> "Now, we'll see it on ballistics gel."

The target cycled through, a clear coppery slab was placed in front of the weapon.

> "Firing in three, two, one!"

Another loud thunderclap, but no light was emitted. Shepard looked at the gel; liquid was slowing pouring out of the much larger hole, with its insides torn ragged.

Verner brought up the slow-motion capture. Shepard watched with pure awe as the gel was melted away by an invisible force a split moment before an unseen fist punched through, sending ripples throughout the gel.

> "As you can see here, the temporal cavity created by hard light can cause extremely grievous injuries on a target. As the cavity collapses in on itself again, internal damaged is further amplified. The sound you hear is the sound of hard light breaking past the sound barrier."

Conrad used his pen to marl out keypoints in the playback. From Shepard's knowledge, nothing in Alliance's arsenal could replicate that kind of damage. Standard rounds did not cause a temporal cavity to the extent shown in the slow-motion capture, AP rounds would pass through and shredder rounds were nowhere near that effective. Hollow-point rounds (which were illegal for military usage) was close, but not close enough. Whatever the SCAR-H was designed for, it was definitely not for human targets, it was made for much bigger and heavier ones.

> "Now, for the final setting," Conrad's grin grew even bigger if that was even possible. He flashed his immaculate teeth as he entered the settings onto his console.
> 
> "Firing in three, two, one!"

A loud whined pitch mixed with a roaring thunderclap and electrical discharged surged throughout the entire lab, accompanied by a brilliant beam of cobalt blue. The target's kinetic barriers overloaded and winked out, the armour and the bodice beneath had a sizeable chunk of the abdomen missing. The round hadn't hit centre mass, so it wasn't an instant kill, but the damage done would've killed the person soon after. From the wispy eldritch that faded into the air, Shepard could tell that it was the ionised air dissipating.

> "Beautiful," Verner grinned.
> 
> "You could've shown us playbacks of earlier tests," Shepard added casually.
> 
> "This is more fun," he said with a bone chilling smile.
> 
> "Can we replicate this kind of technology?" Hackett asked.
> 
> "For the most part, we have something like these in our armoury. All are Prothean based, none are as this effective or compact. We're still a long way away from creating something even close to this," Verner said with trepidation.
> 
> "Have you tried…"
> 
> "… pulling it apart?" Verner finished. "Yes, but it was hardware locked. The composite alloy the weapon is made out of is extremely tough to open… when we got it open it self-destructed."

Conrad waved to a charred out husk on the bench opposite to the working SCAR-H.

> "Now, there are a number of pistols and submachine guns you uncovered," the scientist pursed his lips. "They fire premade bullets…"

Jane tilted her head and arched an eyebrow.

> _That's unexpected_ , she thought.
> 
> "We've put them through stress tests and whatnot; they are extremely rugged and durable."

Weapon readout appeared on the console screen, but Shepard noticed that there weren't any penetrating scans. But there were photos of it in its dismantled forms. The pistol was engraved with _FR79_ , and looked like a very rugged, sleek yet skeletal firearm. In short, it looked extremely expensive but not for show as it would be worth every dime. Like the SCAR-H, the FR79 was just as heavily customised with an extended magazine, enhanced optical sights and a suppressor.

The SMG, was engraved with _M7SC_ _SMG_ , and had a suppressor attached. However, it looked like it was in default form as there was no additional accessories save for the silencer. The foregrip was clearly premade and attached with the firearm.

 _Interesting_ , Shepard noted.

The next two weapons shown looked extremely similar to the SCAR-H. One was marked _as FR SCAR-L Mk 26_ , it looked slimmer and shorter, about the size of an N7 Valkyrie. However Conrad had marked it as _defunct_. There were a number of horrendous scorch marks running along the entire length of the weapon which Shepard had mistaken to be as a camo pattern at first. The other weapon was marked as _FR SCAR-L Mk26 PDR_ and was much shorter with the barrel length at 13inches.

"The last weapon is shoulder fired," Conrad explained.

He brought the weapon readout up. It looked like a heavily beefed up bazooka. Most if not all of the weapons in the Alliance's arsenal could be wielded comfortably like a rifle; for enhanced accuracy. Like before, Jane noticed that there weren't any penetrating scans, but she was sure that the Doctor will get to that part later.

> "It needs a code to be fired. Honestly trying to shoot it is tempting fate… not something I want to do."
> 
> "Continue," Hackett said.
> 
> "It has a protective sheathe, and a huge barrel size as well as a clear warning label…"
> 
> "Wait, a warning label?" Shepard interrupted.
> 
> Conrad nodded. "It says 'high powered direct energy weapon, use with extreme caution', that should speak volumes about what it can do."
> 
> "What about the armour?" Hackett inquired.

An expression of pure awe spread across the scientist's face. "You're going to enjoy this."

He led the two Alliance Officers out of the range and over to the adjacent lab room where the armour was held. It was still in the same condition as Jane had found it, complete with the support webbing for munitions and other miscellaneous equipment. All around the table were scans of the armour, but none were penetrating scans.

> "I've noticed that you don't have any deep scans," Shepard said, her curiosity getting the better of her.
> 
> "Ah yes, that," Conrad pursed his lips. "Let me show you what our scopes picked up."

A screen hovered over the armour, showing a scan at the nano-level. Jane could see the textured suface, perfectly honed and consistent in a hexagonal pattern. Within the crevices between the hexagons were what appeared to be nano-bots.

> "This half a metric ton of technological brilliance is self-repairing with the nanites – why else would it have nanites?" Verner cleared his throat. "As you can see on this screen, the shields are active. They're not kinetic barriers. I tried using a laser to open it up but the shields stopped me."
> 
> "You mean, this is an energy shield," Hackett stated.
> 
> "Precisely. But it's always active. Look at the restraints; they're not touching the armour. And look at these grooves, there are designed to deflect sensors. Then you have the light absorbing surface. That's why we have that very dull look of the armour."
> 
> "You're saying that this armour possesses passive stealth capabilities?" Hackett asked with a hand on his chin.
> 
> "Yes," Verner nodded. "I'm only speculation – sorry, speculating here, but I think this armour's active stealth systems would be more than capable of baffling our best sensors… but sonar."
> 
> "Too bad we don't mass produce sonar sensors," Shepard commented dryly.
> 
> "But if this armour were to carry a weapon, then wouldn't its stealth capabilities be cancelled out?" Hackett asked.
> 
> "That's the thing; the weapons were designed like this too. They're all painted and textured to be undetectable by radar."

Jane was impressed. Not only were the ancestors capable of delivering heavy firepower, but they could do so with stealth and precision. She concluded that their combat doctrine would've relied heavily on self-imitative and modularity.

> "Do we know what's inside?" Hackett asked.

Verner shook his head. "We've scanned everything, including the visor. But it was all absorbed. We got nothing back."

Jane walked over to one of the displays, out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Conrad yawning and rubbing his tired bloodshot eyes.

> "When we the last time you slept, Doc?"

Verner snuffled his nose and glanced down at his watch.

> "Twenty hours ago."
> 
> "Get some rest," Hackett encouraged, "you'll…"

Shepard ears registered the sound of Velcro ripping apart. She turned just in time to see the armoured entity sit up from the table. In an instant, the alarms were blaring over the speakers. Without even thinking, Jane pushed the two older men back with her biotics and shielded them. Soldier's rushed into the lab; their M8's raised and ready. They formed a rough semi-circle around 117, with engineers prepping for an attack.

Orange hardlight shields were activated to provide power, additional shielding pylons offered extra protection. Two Commandos moved to extract Hackett, but he shrugged them off and gestured to Verner instead.

Jane ran her eyes along the armoured entity. It was _much_ bigger at full height and very _domineering_ – for lack of a better term. It walked forward, its footsteps purposely loud and intimidating. Faster than any normal eye could follow, the being drew a sidearm, and held it at hip height with the barrel angled downwards. Shepard knew that gesture, it meant that if 117 felt under threat, it would act accordingly. But as long as no shots were fired, it would talk. Regardless of its stance, the situation was still a Mexican standoff.

> "I'm Admiral Hackett," Steve said sternly. "And you are?"

The armoured entity turned to face.

 _Goddamn it's tall_ , Shepard's mind wandered. Her stomach was doing somersaults and her ribs threatened to be turned into powder by her beating heart. Her skin pricked too, as if she was under the hot Australian sun.

> "Commander One-One-Seven," a deep male baritone, _English-speaking_ voice replied. It sounded _hollow_ , disembodied and artificial, but _human_. It or rather he, did not sound like EDI. EDI did not sound detached and cold. But this voice did, ironically making it more _human_.

Shepard could write an entire essay on how this voice sounded, but if she was to sum it up, she would say it sounded desensitised, cold and yet filled with years of wisdom and pain. She knew then that she would never forget how _his_ voice sounded.

> "What should we call you?" Shepard asked. Somehow, calling him _Commander One-One-Seven_ did seem very _efficient_.
> 
> "Chief," he answered. His aim relaxed just a tad, the pistol was angled further down.

The air was still tense though. Soldiers were continually readjusting their grips. But Jane had spent years learning how to read body language – particularly those in armour. The man standing in front of her didn't seem fazed in the slightest. Either his armour was all it was cracked up to be and more _or_ he was an utter idiot. Shepard doubted the latter _severely_.

 _Or he's bluffing_ , a small voice chirped within her.

> "Were you awake this whole time?" She asked.
> 
> The way he had gotten up was so _calm_ , as if he had planned the whole thing out. A slight nod was all he gave for an answer.
> 
> "What do you want from us?"
> 
> "What do you want from me?" he countered.
> 
> "What are you?" Hackett asked. He gestured for the men to stand down.

Shepard followed suit and dropped her biotic field.

> "Human," he answered.

_Smart ass_ , Jane thought dryly. She looking at the seven foot tall giant, a small part of her wanted to call _bullshit_. It was feasible that humans could grow over seven feet, _but_ those were extremely rare occurrences. Judging by the armour tailored for him and including the serial number, she concluded that his height was an _expected_ quality. The dimensions of the armour were a clear indication that a body filled out most of it.

> "What was that bunker we found you in?" Jane asked.

The Chief turned his steely gaze on her. Though she couldn't see his eyes, she could feel them drill through her skull.

> "You are Commander Jane Alice Shepard," he said, taking her by surprise. "Graduated with a Suma Cum Laude at the Alliance Military Academy, lost your entire command after being ambushed by a Thresher Maw, and still managing to hold back a batarian onslaught to defend fleeing colonists."

It was hard to tell, but Shepard could swear that she heard a tone of admiration in his voice.

> "You were then sent to train to participate in the N-Seven Program where you graduated with a High Distinction. Soon after, you joined the Asari Military School to improve upon your biotics and help expand the Alliance's biotic training."

Now there was a level of disdain in his voice. But it wasn't because of jealously, no, it was because of the fact that she was effectively a poster girl. Her achievements blasted all over the extranet for the entire galaxy to see. Jane too wasn't too pleased with the fact that most of her life story had been displayed for everyone to read, but something inside her said that the Chief did not have conventional access to this information. This was his way of exercising his skill without appearing hostile.

_Smart._

> "You are the First Human Spectre, tasked with hunting down a more _experienced_ agent."

It wasn't lost on her on how much emphasis he put on "experienced", she could literally feel his _'what the fuck?'_ expression.

> "After the Battle of the Citadel, you were tasked with hunting down the Geth remnants, only to be attacked and killed… by a Collector ship, then recovered and revived by Cerberus."

Shepard's eyes widened in shock. She felt that icy hand return to her heart, and that blasted heat beating down on her again. That type of information wasn't over the extranet. Everything about her demise had been myths and folklore thinking. Hell, there were so many rumours about her that it could fill an anthology. But there was _nothing_ about her being spaced by Collectors. Hence the following information was even more disturbing.

The Illusive Man – or Timmy as she liked to call him – would never release that kind of information. He preferred to work in secrecy, only omitting details and revealing information when absolutely necessary. There was nothing logical about him blabbing on about how he revived Shepard, he knew that the rumours about her with Cerberus was already enough of a hindrance.

> "How the hell did you find that out?" Shepard asked, her voice laced with venom.

There was no way the Chief was bluffing. She knew it.

> "Guess," his voice rumbled.

Then it all fell together. Everything all made sense now.

"You wanted us to come in and take you out of the bunker. You knew we were coming. You needed to play your cards right," Shepard deducted. "If you came out shooting, you weren't going to see the sun again. If you came out, we would've shot you or carried you off without you knowing anything about us… you were stalling to get information… ballsy move."

A slight nod was all she had to confirm her theory.

> "I mean you no harm," he said, holstering his sidearm
> 
> "Yeah," Shepard snorted, "that's what they all say before they blow everything sky high."

She scolded herself for losing her professionalism. But it was clear he had hacked into Alliance Networks, which meant he knew about her Cerberus involvement through the Network. That would've only been possible if Ashley had written a detailed report after Horizon.

> "Where do we go from here?" Hackett asked. "You've breached our networks."
> 
> "You have questions, I have answers…"

* * *

**_UNSC Archive Entry – Vehicles and Armoured Warfare (extract) by LTCOL Doctor Essingdon Dominic Keyes_ **

_In comparison to our 21st Century counterparts, the vehicles used by the UNSC during the Human-Covenant War are woefully under-equipped and armoured. Warthogs back then exposed their occupants, and the gunner was in a perilous position. Light unarmoured vehicles are generally used by QRFs and Spec Ops to allow rapid deployment and extraction, but to have them be used widespread without any form of protection was and still is a callous idea._

_However, with recent overhauls and implementation of Directive-CD2341-EDK (colloquially referred to as "Key in the car" manual), our people and vehicles are safer and more effective._

_ Titan MkIV Walker _ _, first walker to be put into mass production. It is most effective as a mop-up vehicle to clear out any IEDs or urban pacification. Combat simulations show that it is ineffective at taking armoured divisions head on, its height of ten metres make it an easy target for tank gunners. However, because of its height, it is extremely effective at clearing out Flood infestations._

_ The M997 Atlas MBT _ _serves as the mainstay tank in our arsenal, superseding the Scorpion and Grizzly all together. We've gone back to earlier principles of tank crews – teams of three; Commander, Driver and Gunner. Combat simulations have shown an increase in combat effectiveness, with a faster firing rate, the Atlas can outclass an entire platoon of Grizzly Tanks with relative ease. Its weight is also evenly dispersed over six treads (similar to the Grizzly Prototype), allowing it to traverse over marshlands at high speeds – on-road: 120km/h. Additional Survival Kit also increases the durability and longevity of the Atlases. Field testings show that the Atlas's shields are capable of withstanding a direct hit from a Scarab Walker. (Current model in service is the M99A1 – no discernible upgrades. For the foreseeable future, there will not be an A2)._

_M998 Ares Ultra-Heavy Tank_ , _the Atlas chassis combined with the Rhino lead to the creation of the Ares. The idea behind this tank is to be used for ultra-heavy assaults, with its defences capable of wearing out heavy barrages. It is capable of taking on a Scarab walker, and possesses enough capabilities to engage heavy enemy air assets. Its tri-rotating-barrel main gun allows it to suppress and destroy enemy positions with a heavy amount of firepower. Because of its "slow" speed of 70km/h (on-road), the Ares is recommended for deployment when there is a clear ground objective to be taken or held. i.e. when the enemy is invested in defending a certain area or is intent with taking UNSC held positions. However, because of its size, deployment is limited to open fields. Application for this tank is limited, but if used correctly, it can and will save ample amounts of resources that would've been used for alternative solutions. (Current model in service is the M998A7)_

_ M510 "Mammoth" Siegework/Ultra-Heavy Mobile Anti-Aircraft Weapons Platform _ _, this vehicle serves as a mobile command centre as well as support and logistics, bringing heavy ordinance to the field whilst providing fire support to frontline troops. (Current model in service is the M510A15 – see Report-AV128/M510 for more)_

_ M312 Heavy Recover Vehicle _ _, see report for more._

_ Mine-Resistant Ambush Protected Quick-Reaction Utility Vehicle "Bullhound" _ _, like the Warthog, the Bullhound is capable of being outfitted for any task. Its bigger frame offers increased stability and protection as well as a larger payload. – See original report for more_

_ M14 Warthog _ _, the M14 has been outfitted with doors, stronger hull and armour plating to increase survival and durability. Lighter variants are stripped down to offer rapid embarking and disembarking of occupants. But the main change is moving the gun turret to the centre of the frame rather than the back, and expansion of the frame increases vehicle stability as well as a greater payload capacity and safety for passengers. (Current model in service is the M14D7)_

_Conclusion: With the reintroduction of heavier vehicles, soldiers are offered more protection, thus increasing their operational capacity. Armoured warfare must be like a bow, strong yet flexible. Vehicles must be fast but not at the expense of protection, at the same time, vehicles must avoid situations where they would come under heavy fire._

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  **A/N: What do you think?**

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